Story Up On Hartford Ridge
- Thread starter Kathy in FL
- Start date
223shootersc
Veteran Member
Great stuff, Ms. Kathy!!!!
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
The dolts of the world forget to calculate consequences in RL & Fiction ....
Maybe the perforated fat man can get his projectile engraved as a memento ....
Last edited:
Chapter Sixty-Six
“That’s the last watermelon,” I told Sawyer as he stuffed the last bit of red fresh fruit into his mouth as we sat in the swing on the porch.
“You sorry?” he asked.
“Not really. All good things must eventually end … or at least take a vacation. We have one more cantaloupe in the frig that you can have tomorrow for dessert or in the morning with your breakfast. Then there is all the watermelon and cantaloupe jam, jelly, and pickles down in the basement. Next year I’m going to have a garden for us so we can be more independent.”
“You are?”
I heard the grin in his voice so asked, “Are you making fun of me Sawyer Hartford?”
He shook his head. “Are you kidding? I’m beginning to think there isn’t anything you can’t do and maybe God made you lame so the rest of us could keep up … oh crap. Kay-Lee that didn’t come out right.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Yes, it did. You meant it as a compliment, and I’ll take it as one. Just because other people might hear it and not understand us doesn’t mean that I don’t. You’re a special man Sawyer. I don’t even think you know how special because I don’t know how to tell you and you give me special every single day.”
“Wow. What’s all this about?”
“I don’t know. I just … something is better between us. Things were always better than I’ve ever had them but … but something has made the better even better.” I shook my head. “I know that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Who cares if it doesn’t make sense? If you feel like that then I’m all for it. Wish I didn’t’ have to work.”
“But you do.”
“But you’ve promised me you’ll stay in the house as much as possible since they still haven’t caught Man Boob.”
“Will you stop? I was just shook up yesterday and my mouth kind of got away from me. I wasn’t trying to be silly on purpose.”
Sawyer chuckled. “I really shouldn’t be laughing. It could have been bad. Just by the time Darla finished explaining it to me and to the other deputies that showed up behind me I thought we were all going to need hernia operations. You do know who you hit in the man boob don’t you?”
“Sawyer!”
“Ok, ok. Take it easy. It was Big Cal Ferguson. He was one of the guys that dogpiled Cutter and destroyed his football potential.”
“So I’ve heard. Just about a million times. And please tell Cutter to stop going around shouting Big Cal Man Boob like that. It’s getting annoying … and embarrassing. Beth doesn’t look too happy about it either. Cutter shouldn’t gloat, it’s not attractive in the least.”
“Don’t worry about what hot water Cutter gets into with Beth. If he isn’t fireproof by now he’s just going to have to burn. And I’m the only one you need to worry about finding appealing. So … speaking of hot water.”
I winced. “More tomatoes?”
“’Fraid so,” he said while trying to keep the smile out of his voice. “But I’ll try and make as many of these the green ones like you’re wanting. And the cherry tomatoes so you can do those pickle things you want to also. And I think I might be able to bring you a punch of yellow ones ‘cause they looked about ripe day before yesterday. And before I forget, Aunt Suzanne wanted to know if she could have some of the canning pears. Apparently the tree she had been expecting to get most of hers off of got hit by lightning and is dying faster than the fruit can ripen.”
“Tell her and anyone else that wants some to come get them. They’re as bad as the apples … not bad bad but … oh you know what I mean … numerous and hard to keep up with to keep them from wasting. I wonder if you can juice pears.”
“Some you can because Uncle Carl makes pear cider whenever there is a bumper crop but I don’t know if you can juice these that are coming in right now. It might be you can juice them all, but they might not all give the same amount of juice. A mix of varieties is better anyway. Speaking of, I need to know how many gallon jugs we have around here.”
“A … lot …,” I answered slowly. “Sawyer … are … are we going to make ‘shine?” I wasn’t sure whether I was joking when I asked him or not.
Sawyer didn’t immediately deny it, or laugh at the idea, so I knew something was up. “Kinda depends. Have you bottled any juice up yet?”
“You mean canned it?”
“Yeah.”
“No. Well, I’ve made some with that juicer I got at the thrift store, but I’ve been using that for canning other things and for cooking with. I’ve mostly been doing other things with the apples because I thought we were supposed to do a big juice and cider kind of party the beginning of October. Sort of a harvest festival slash delayed wedding reception kind of thing.”
“Wellllll, plans might be changing. I mean that’s what we normally do – the family’s harvest day in late September or early October normally – but Gramps said the signs and portends are for a hard winter and for lots of civil unrest and what not and he’d like to have the harvest day on Labor Day weekend instead since the trees that are fruiting seem to want to cooperate. I know that is this coming weekend and short notice and it has caught the family by surprise. You should see the aunts. And since …”
A little out of patience for no good reason I said, “And since we have the wood stoves, the wood piles, and all of the outdoor space already wrecked up he thought we might as well have it here.”
“Uh … I’m kinda getting the feeling …”
Shaking my head apologetically I told him, “No. No I’m sorry if it sounded like I was giving you an attitude. And I don’t want to spoil our mood either. I guess … oh never mind.”
“You guess what? C’mon, you know you can talk to me about this. You listen to me complaining about the family some times.”
“I’m not really complaining exactly … at least I hope I’m not, because I’m feeling too what Preacher Don calls blessed to have the right to complain. It’s just that the others are always talking about their places but I’ve only been to exactly three of your family’s homes and one of them is ours. This one, Burt and Delly’s, and then Gramp’s place because that’s where we’ve done some of the separating and sharing out of stuff. It’s not like I want to go sticking my nose into their business, but they talk like they go visiting with each other all the time and … and even Linda and Jeannie … even Beth …”
“You feeling cooped up and tied down?” he asked with concern. “I wish I had the time to take you out more, like to town or the movies or even to the discount mall again.”
“Huh? No! It’s not like I’m hurting for things to do, and we spend lots of time together at the end of the day. And I don’t want to measure us by them either. It’s just … how am I supposed to get to know them if I never have a chance to get to know them except on canning days? It seems a lot longer, but we’ve been married five months and I know that sort of thing takes time. I know that a lot of them knew each other beforehand so I don’t want to butt into their existing friendships. But I’ve never even been to any of the workdays to help the others set their places up. No wonder they all think I’m some kind of snobby know it all town girl with issues and …”
“Whoa! Did someone say something?!”
“Not in those words and I don’t know if I can even explain it. At school I was used to being the outsider. I’m not even sure I would have trusted anyone that made out like I was anything else. And there were a few who made sure us SLD kids stayed in our place … or what they thought was our place. But then you come along and there was Linda and Tommy here and they cushioned the sudden changes … then Uncle James and Gramps … I felt so welcome … so a part of things. Aunt Pearl and Aunt Suzanne have given me a big head over what all I’ve done to make sure the kitchen and pantry here is stocked and how we’re taking care of the orchard, vineyard, and all the other little odds and ends we keep running into on the land. But lately …”
“Lately? C’mon Kay-Lee, spit it out.”
Sighing and wondering if I should have even brought it up I said, “Sawyer lately I feel like I’m back in school. I’m working as hard as I can, playing catch up to keep up and there’s all these other things going on that I can sense that I’m not a part of but are just waiting around the corner to trip me up. And most of the time I’m so busy it doesn’t matter or I don’t feel like I need to worry about it but then there are days like today …”
“What about today sparked it?”
I sighed. “I don’t know exactly. I guess … I guess maybe … Sawyer? Are you ever … are you ever scared?”
Slowly he admitted, “Sometimes. There are a lot of things to finish up and … and some days I feel like I’m running out of time.”
“Yes!” I felt my cheeks turning read because I’d shouted and Sawyer had almost jumped in surprise. “Oh brother. See what I mean? Sometimes I just feel like … like I don’t know how to do this family thing and that I’m supposed to be helping with this huge deal. Some days I feel like I’m doing better than treading water … that I’m making headway to safety even if the water is deep. But then other days … other days I feel like I’m barely treading water and getting tired and there’s a storm on the horizon and the water is so dark and murky it’s like not only is there a storm but there is something with sharp teeth swimming just below me waiting … waiting for me to fall back from the others … get tired and stop moving. I know if all of us swimming can just stick together we’ll help each other stay afloat and the monsters won’t get us. But then … but then sometimes it feels like I’m being left behind and I don’t know, sometimes it feels like I’m getting left behind on purpose. And yes, I know how pathetic that sounds but you asked how I felt.”
Sawyer scooted to the center of the swing and then pulled me into his lap. “I’m sorry Kay-Lee. I didn’t know you were feeling so bad.”
“It’s not all the time. It’s not even most of the time. Just lately … lately I feel … something. Like there is something out there that’s gonna get us, separate us and pick us off one by one. I’ve never … I’ve never had what I have now … and I don’t mean the house so much as what we have, the two of us. And I know I’ve only had it for five months but … oh Sawyer …”
“Hey … shhhhh … it’s gonna be ok.”
“I wish I could believe that. And I guess if I didn’t most of the time I wouldn’t be working so hard. But Sawyer, look at how I was born. Look at how much pain and misery just a couple of people created. Not just for me but for lots of people. No one expected it to happen and look how bad it was. How much bigger and badder can it be with us expecting it?”
Sawyer was quiet for a while and then told me, “I can’t promise bad things aren’t coming. I can’t promise bad things won’t happen to us. What I can promise you is the same thing I promised five months ago, to work my hardest to make sure the bad things have as little chance of getting us as possible and if they do get us that they hurt as little as possible.”
“Oh Sawyer. Me too. And I’m sorry. I know it isn’t your fault. You’ve made things so much better that if someone had told me what my life was going to be by coming up to the ridge I would have thought they were so crazy there wouldn’t have been words for it. I don’t want to lose this.”
“Well if this means me then there’s no chance of that. Not that I’ve ever thought about it but after I saw what a mess Lisa was when her house burnt down … she has no backbone. She’s worse than even the most complainingist of the new wives. If we had stayed together all I would have been doing is digging my whole deeper. The thing is I never saw it … that … that …”
“Fatal flaw.”
“Huh?”
“On that documentary we were watching the other night, the one about people who snapped. Several times they pointed out that the men and women had what they called a fatal flaw in their character and that some of them hadn’t snapped so much as that that flaw had been uncovered and revealed.”
“Yeah. Ok. Maybe. But it sure does make you think. Even looking at the family I can tell some of them aren’t taking this as seriously as they should. For some it is almost like one of those role play fantasy games. They can put it on and take it off at will. But this needs to be a lifestyle, not a hobby.”
“Gramps been talking again?”
Sawyer sighed. “Yeah, him and Uncle Forrester, Uncle James, a bunch of ‘em. I don’t know if they – and me for that matter – are feeding on each other’s worries or if we’re really feeling an increase in the influence of the Dark Side.”
“Excuse me?”
“Some of us, to blow off steam, have taken to calling the feelings we are getting the ‘Dark Side’ … like Star Wars stuff.”
“Uh … never saw it.”
Sawyer just looked at me and then said, “What the hell? You never saw Star Wars?!”
“No. It isn’t that big of a deal.”
“Oh my gawd woman. Well I know what we are doing … starting tonight. I know I have them in my DVDs just gotta remember where I stuck them.”
“Your old collection is in a box under our bed.”
“C’mon … popcorn time.”
He threw me over his shoulder and was carrying me in the house. “Put me down! What kind of Neanderthal fit is this?!”
“A righteous one. Everyone has to see Star Wars at least once before the world ends.”
“You’re nuts!!”
But we were both laughing and the scary monsters stayed under the bed and in the closest because the light we made was too bright for them.
“That’s the last watermelon,” I told Sawyer as he stuffed the last bit of red fresh fruit into his mouth as we sat in the swing on the porch.
“You sorry?” he asked.
“Not really. All good things must eventually end … or at least take a vacation. We have one more cantaloupe in the frig that you can have tomorrow for dessert or in the morning with your breakfast. Then there is all the watermelon and cantaloupe jam, jelly, and pickles down in the basement. Next year I’m going to have a garden for us so we can be more independent.”
“You are?”
I heard the grin in his voice so asked, “Are you making fun of me Sawyer Hartford?”
He shook his head. “Are you kidding? I’m beginning to think there isn’t anything you can’t do and maybe God made you lame so the rest of us could keep up … oh crap. Kay-Lee that didn’t come out right.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Yes, it did. You meant it as a compliment, and I’ll take it as one. Just because other people might hear it and not understand us doesn’t mean that I don’t. You’re a special man Sawyer. I don’t even think you know how special because I don’t know how to tell you and you give me special every single day.”
“Wow. What’s all this about?”
“I don’t know. I just … something is better between us. Things were always better than I’ve ever had them but … but something has made the better even better.” I shook my head. “I know that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Who cares if it doesn’t make sense? If you feel like that then I’m all for it. Wish I didn’t’ have to work.”
“But you do.”
“But you’ve promised me you’ll stay in the house as much as possible since they still haven’t caught Man Boob.”
“Will you stop? I was just shook up yesterday and my mouth kind of got away from me. I wasn’t trying to be silly on purpose.”
Sawyer chuckled. “I really shouldn’t be laughing. It could have been bad. Just by the time Darla finished explaining it to me and to the other deputies that showed up behind me I thought we were all going to need hernia operations. You do know who you hit in the man boob don’t you?”
“Sawyer!”
“Ok, ok. Take it easy. It was Big Cal Ferguson. He was one of the guys that dogpiled Cutter and destroyed his football potential.”
“So I’ve heard. Just about a million times. And please tell Cutter to stop going around shouting Big Cal Man Boob like that. It’s getting annoying … and embarrassing. Beth doesn’t look too happy about it either. Cutter shouldn’t gloat, it’s not attractive in the least.”
“Don’t worry about what hot water Cutter gets into with Beth. If he isn’t fireproof by now he’s just going to have to burn. And I’m the only one you need to worry about finding appealing. So … speaking of hot water.”
I winced. “More tomatoes?”
“’Fraid so,” he said while trying to keep the smile out of his voice. “But I’ll try and make as many of these the green ones like you’re wanting. And the cherry tomatoes so you can do those pickle things you want to also. And I think I might be able to bring you a punch of yellow ones ‘cause they looked about ripe day before yesterday. And before I forget, Aunt Suzanne wanted to know if she could have some of the canning pears. Apparently the tree she had been expecting to get most of hers off of got hit by lightning and is dying faster than the fruit can ripen.”
“Tell her and anyone else that wants some to come get them. They’re as bad as the apples … not bad bad but … oh you know what I mean … numerous and hard to keep up with to keep them from wasting. I wonder if you can juice pears.”
“Some you can because Uncle Carl makes pear cider whenever there is a bumper crop but I don’t know if you can juice these that are coming in right now. It might be you can juice them all, but they might not all give the same amount of juice. A mix of varieties is better anyway. Speaking of, I need to know how many gallon jugs we have around here.”
“A … lot …,” I answered slowly. “Sawyer … are … are we going to make ‘shine?” I wasn’t sure whether I was joking when I asked him or not.
Sawyer didn’t immediately deny it, or laugh at the idea, so I knew something was up. “Kinda depends. Have you bottled any juice up yet?”
“You mean canned it?”
“Yeah.”
“No. Well, I’ve made some with that juicer I got at the thrift store, but I’ve been using that for canning other things and for cooking with. I’ve mostly been doing other things with the apples because I thought we were supposed to do a big juice and cider kind of party the beginning of October. Sort of a harvest festival slash delayed wedding reception kind of thing.”
“Wellllll, plans might be changing. I mean that’s what we normally do – the family’s harvest day in late September or early October normally – but Gramps said the signs and portends are for a hard winter and for lots of civil unrest and what not and he’d like to have the harvest day on Labor Day weekend instead since the trees that are fruiting seem to want to cooperate. I know that is this coming weekend and short notice and it has caught the family by surprise. You should see the aunts. And since …”
A little out of patience for no good reason I said, “And since we have the wood stoves, the wood piles, and all of the outdoor space already wrecked up he thought we might as well have it here.”
“Uh … I’m kinda getting the feeling …”
Shaking my head apologetically I told him, “No. No I’m sorry if it sounded like I was giving you an attitude. And I don’t want to spoil our mood either. I guess … oh never mind.”
“You guess what? C’mon, you know you can talk to me about this. You listen to me complaining about the family some times.”
“I’m not really complaining exactly … at least I hope I’m not, because I’m feeling too what Preacher Don calls blessed to have the right to complain. It’s just that the others are always talking about their places but I’ve only been to exactly three of your family’s homes and one of them is ours. This one, Burt and Delly’s, and then Gramp’s place because that’s where we’ve done some of the separating and sharing out of stuff. It’s not like I want to go sticking my nose into their business, but they talk like they go visiting with each other all the time and … and even Linda and Jeannie … even Beth …”
“You feeling cooped up and tied down?” he asked with concern. “I wish I had the time to take you out more, like to town or the movies or even to the discount mall again.”
“Huh? No! It’s not like I’m hurting for things to do, and we spend lots of time together at the end of the day. And I don’t want to measure us by them either. It’s just … how am I supposed to get to know them if I never have a chance to get to know them except on canning days? It seems a lot longer, but we’ve been married five months and I know that sort of thing takes time. I know that a lot of them knew each other beforehand so I don’t want to butt into their existing friendships. But I’ve never even been to any of the workdays to help the others set their places up. No wonder they all think I’m some kind of snobby know it all town girl with issues and …”
“Whoa! Did someone say something?!”
“Not in those words and I don’t know if I can even explain it. At school I was used to being the outsider. I’m not even sure I would have trusted anyone that made out like I was anything else. And there were a few who made sure us SLD kids stayed in our place … or what they thought was our place. But then you come along and there was Linda and Tommy here and they cushioned the sudden changes … then Uncle James and Gramps … I felt so welcome … so a part of things. Aunt Pearl and Aunt Suzanne have given me a big head over what all I’ve done to make sure the kitchen and pantry here is stocked and how we’re taking care of the orchard, vineyard, and all the other little odds and ends we keep running into on the land. But lately …”
“Lately? C’mon Kay-Lee, spit it out.”
Sighing and wondering if I should have even brought it up I said, “Sawyer lately I feel like I’m back in school. I’m working as hard as I can, playing catch up to keep up and there’s all these other things going on that I can sense that I’m not a part of but are just waiting around the corner to trip me up. And most of the time I’m so busy it doesn’t matter or I don’t feel like I need to worry about it but then there are days like today …”
“What about today sparked it?”
I sighed. “I don’t know exactly. I guess … I guess maybe … Sawyer? Are you ever … are you ever scared?”
Slowly he admitted, “Sometimes. There are a lot of things to finish up and … and some days I feel like I’m running out of time.”
“Yes!” I felt my cheeks turning read because I’d shouted and Sawyer had almost jumped in surprise. “Oh brother. See what I mean? Sometimes I just feel like … like I don’t know how to do this family thing and that I’m supposed to be helping with this huge deal. Some days I feel like I’m doing better than treading water … that I’m making headway to safety even if the water is deep. But then other days … other days I feel like I’m barely treading water and getting tired and there’s a storm on the horizon and the water is so dark and murky it’s like not only is there a storm but there is something with sharp teeth swimming just below me waiting … waiting for me to fall back from the others … get tired and stop moving. I know if all of us swimming can just stick together we’ll help each other stay afloat and the monsters won’t get us. But then … but then sometimes it feels like I’m being left behind and I don’t know, sometimes it feels like I’m getting left behind on purpose. And yes, I know how pathetic that sounds but you asked how I felt.”
Sawyer scooted to the center of the swing and then pulled me into his lap. “I’m sorry Kay-Lee. I didn’t know you were feeling so bad.”
“It’s not all the time. It’s not even most of the time. Just lately … lately I feel … something. Like there is something out there that’s gonna get us, separate us and pick us off one by one. I’ve never … I’ve never had what I have now … and I don’t mean the house so much as what we have, the two of us. And I know I’ve only had it for five months but … oh Sawyer …”
“Hey … shhhhh … it’s gonna be ok.”
“I wish I could believe that. And I guess if I didn’t most of the time I wouldn’t be working so hard. But Sawyer, look at how I was born. Look at how much pain and misery just a couple of people created. Not just for me but for lots of people. No one expected it to happen and look how bad it was. How much bigger and badder can it be with us expecting it?”
Sawyer was quiet for a while and then told me, “I can’t promise bad things aren’t coming. I can’t promise bad things won’t happen to us. What I can promise you is the same thing I promised five months ago, to work my hardest to make sure the bad things have as little chance of getting us as possible and if they do get us that they hurt as little as possible.”
“Oh Sawyer. Me too. And I’m sorry. I know it isn’t your fault. You’ve made things so much better that if someone had told me what my life was going to be by coming up to the ridge I would have thought they were so crazy there wouldn’t have been words for it. I don’t want to lose this.”
“Well if this means me then there’s no chance of that. Not that I’ve ever thought about it but after I saw what a mess Lisa was when her house burnt down … she has no backbone. She’s worse than even the most complainingist of the new wives. If we had stayed together all I would have been doing is digging my whole deeper. The thing is I never saw it … that … that …”
“Fatal flaw.”
“Huh?”
“On that documentary we were watching the other night, the one about people who snapped. Several times they pointed out that the men and women had what they called a fatal flaw in their character and that some of them hadn’t snapped so much as that that flaw had been uncovered and revealed.”
“Yeah. Ok. Maybe. But it sure does make you think. Even looking at the family I can tell some of them aren’t taking this as seriously as they should. For some it is almost like one of those role play fantasy games. They can put it on and take it off at will. But this needs to be a lifestyle, not a hobby.”
“Gramps been talking again?”
Sawyer sighed. “Yeah, him and Uncle Forrester, Uncle James, a bunch of ‘em. I don’t know if they – and me for that matter – are feeding on each other’s worries or if we’re really feeling an increase in the influence of the Dark Side.”
“Excuse me?”
“Some of us, to blow off steam, have taken to calling the feelings we are getting the ‘Dark Side’ … like Star Wars stuff.”
“Uh … never saw it.”
Sawyer just looked at me and then said, “What the hell? You never saw Star Wars?!”
“No. It isn’t that big of a deal.”
“Oh my gawd woman. Well I know what we are doing … starting tonight. I know I have them in my DVDs just gotta remember where I stuck them.”
“Your old collection is in a box under our bed.”
“C’mon … popcorn time.”
He threw me over his shoulder and was carrying me in the house. “Put me down! What kind of Neanderthal fit is this?!”
“A righteous one. Everyone has to see Star Wars at least once before the world ends.”
“You’re nuts!!”
But we were both laughing and the scary monsters stayed under the bed and in the closest because the light we made was too bright for them.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
“Kay-Lee Baffa Hartford!” Uncle Carl irritably said walking towards me from the direction of the orchard. “Why didn’t I know about all these fruit trees?!”
It was early morning and I was still antsy about having so many of the family here at one time so my response wasn’t what you might call diplomatic in nature. “I don’t know because it isn’t like I haven’t been giving all the fruit away I can convince people to take on canning days. Need some coffee?”
Aunt Pearl rolled her eyes, laughed, and said, “You’ve got his number Kay-Lee. I don’t know who is worse, Carl or Sawyer. I’d say it was Ray if he was still with us. That man needed a whole pot of strong and black before he was even willing to think about being human.”
Sawyer came out onto the porch as soon as he heard Uncle Carl’s first bellow and before he could give some blow back I stuck the pot I had just used to fill that man’s mug under his nose and he followed me into the house like the aroma of fresh brewed coffee was a hook through his nostril. I heard some good-natured laughing behind us but it didn’t stop me from making sure that I filled the biggest coffee cup we had in the house and tell Sawyer to drink up. Sawyer had fallen in love with the ugly monstrosity at one of our thrift store runs and it doubled as a soup mug when he wasn’t using it to chug his black brew.
I went back to the kitchen to start another pot but Aunt Pearl said, “Don’t bother Honey. Let ‘em work the evil out chopping wood or clearing the trees. We do not have time for people to throw an attitude and be coddled. All of us need to cut back before we have to; it’s not like there is going to be a coffee fairy to bring us any when the stores run out. Why don’t you show me which trees you don’t mind us gleaning today.”
“Aunt Pearl the family should take whatever they need. I’ve got a lot already. And wasting food makes me itch.”
Linda stepped into the kitchen and said, “She isn’t telling stories Aunt Pearl. She got hives one time walking into the teachers’ lounge and seeing all they’d let go bad. I think that’s when she went into battle to try and get it changed to giving it to the football players and other jocks.”
I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t a battle. I just talked to Coach.” And to quickly change the subject I asked, “What are those things? Aren’t they wine presses?”
Uncle Carl who had come in looking chagrined at his earlier behavior said, “They’re fruit presses Honey, though they can be used for wine making right enough. C’mon and I’ll show you how they work.”
He insisted on helping me down the stairs and as he did so leaned over and whispered, “Shouldn’t have cracked the whip like that. But I’m with you, I hate waste.”
“Then let’s not let there be any. You tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Though I warn you, Aunt Pearl has already cut off the coffee supply. I think she’s on the warpath again.”
He got a very innocent look on his face and said quietly, “She had to wait on a few of the kids that she didn’t feel she should have had to wait on. But if I were you, I wouldn’t mention it. There’re some touchy for no reason and it ain’t just the kids. Dad changing plans in mid-squat like this has gotten the fur up of more than a few.”
Uncle Carl’s wife was a short woman everyone called “Dump”. It was short for Dumpling and apparently what she’d been called her whole life. When I asked what her real name was I got a few warnings not to ask again because apparently Aunt Dump considered it so horrible that she’d forbidden anyone to mention it. Aunt Dump came baring down on us to ask me, “You really mean for us to pick what we need?”
“Yes ma’am. I’ve been trying and trying on canning days but I think people must have thought I was kidding. I know everyone was so busy no one strayed far from the house to see how many trees there really are. I just can’t keep up with all the apple and pear trees. Mr. Baffa apparently planted the whole orchard back before he got sick with the intention of starting a farmer’s market or maybe selling at one or something. He wasn’t real clear in his notes which it was. But as you can see he didn’t do any such thing. Either way Sawyer thinks this may be the first full harvest from all the trees at once and I just don’t know how to … well … it’s a mess and I’m not sure what to do about it and Sawyer just looks at me and says ‘eat ‘em’.”
Aunt Dump nodded and then turned like a Battalion Commander and said, “Kids! Line up!” She proceeded to put them into groups and lead them out into the orchard.
“Whew,” I muttered under my breath.
Uncle Carl looked at me and winked and said, “Uh huh. Now let’s show you how these things work.”
Basically the short version is you pick the fruit then wash it to get rid of dirt and bugs, pick out the wood stems and leaves, cut the bad places out if need be, and then dump them into a hopper that directs them into a grinder that coarsely chops the fruit … peels, steeds, and fruit … and then drops it into a bucket that is nothing but slats that has been lined with this really fine mesh made of nylon. Uncle Carl said in the old days you would use cheesecloth but it was a messy business and the nylon mesh bags were re-usable and didn’t soak up any of the juice.
Once the slatted bucket was full a pressing plate was placed on top and then the pressing screw was turned. As the press squishes the fruit in the tub the juice comes out of the bottom and is funneled into another bucket. When the pressing is finished and all of the juice is squeezed out you are left with the very compacted remains of fruit. It is dense and heavy and called pomace.
The long version is everyone has their own way of doing things and I decided to stay out of it and watch rather than get drawn into some of the good-natured – and not so good-natured – rivalries.
After the first few batches of apples were run through, the resulting pomace was put into a big tub and covered with water and left to rehydrate overnight. Tomorrow it will be run through the press first thing in the morning and the resulting weak cider is called “Ciderkin” and will be used for the kids to drink the rest of the weekend to save the full strength for bottling and for turning into “hard cider” or fermented cider. The kids told me it was like apple-flavored Kool-Aid and to them it was one of the best things of the family harvest day.
Aunt Suzanne told me, “When I was a girl we used to give the fruit pomace to the chickens and pigs but supposedly the animals can eat too many seeds and die.”
“Is it true?”
“Wellll, I think mostly these days we can afford store bought feed so we don’t do it but better safe than sorry. They use it to feed cattle with but a cows got more than one stomach and processes what they eat different. They’re also some bigger than other animals with makes a difference too. Nowadays we just throw it on the compost pile. I see you’ve got a great big one started out yonder behind the barn. I was wondering where all the peels and such were going from canning days. I don’t think your pile is going to hold all the pomace we make this weekend. We’ll get about five gallons of pomace per hundred pounds of apples. We might have to piece it out.”
“Whatever you think best. Sawyer already had to use that metal security net that used to cover the outside tractor implements to cover the pile a few times because the raccoons and other animals were getting into it.”
“Too much fruit in the pile. I’ll have some of the kids that can’t climb trees rake up some of that cut, dried grass out of the orchard and we’ll throw it in layers with the pomace. That should help some. It’ll cut down on the vinegar smell as well as the pile ferments.”
We had multiple presses running split evenly between apples and pears except for a couple that didn’t have grinders on them that were used to press grapes. Not just the remaining grapes from our vines, but bushels of grapes brought by the rest of the Hartfords.
However even with all that activity going at the same time, pressing the apples and pears and grapes to get their juice was only part of the process. Oh no, nothing can ever be simple. And to be honest watching some of the other men and women get all persnickety about the varieties and amount of fruit used in each pressing came close to giving me a headache. The same kind of headache I would get when we would have a guest speaker who was a chef or some other kind of cook that insisted on turning a simple chore into a science experiment with all sorts of secret ingredients and ways of doing things. I know some people get a real charge out of that, but I don’t. Just press the doggone fruit and then give it to me to bottle up. It all gets drank by the same orifice and comes out the same end. The point is to make people happy with a full belly, not to make people worship the ground you walk on because you are some kind of food wizard.
When the aunts and uncles started squabbling, I left the scene and headed indoors where I could actually get some work done. After reading a lot of different sources and talking to the aunts I decided I was going to do up our share of the apple juice three ways. First I was going to leave it completely natural. This juice would have the most solids in it. Next, I was going to strain the juice through several layers of cheese cloth. This would leave some solids, but they mostly settle to the bottom of gallon and half-gallon jars and jugs that it would be stored in. The last type was filtered apple juice, and this would leave the clearest juice with almost no visible solids. I was using a water filter pitcher that I had lined with coffee filters. I would store some of this in pints for drinking or using in cooking but a lot of the filtered juice I was going to make into apply jelly. I have hopes that by using filtered juice I would get a clearer, prettier jelly than the cloudy stuff that I had made thus far. Of course, before I could get to that point I would have to process everything in a boiling water bath canner.
Pears I wasn’t going to be so choosey about. Sawyer had told me that he preferred a “full bodied” pear nectar rather than what he considered a thinned-out juice so that is what I was going to give him. I wasn’t going to filter the pear juice at all but bottle it up au natural by the quart. Mrs. Penny – who showed up with Delly and Burt and their kids about midmorning bringing a big cooker and an untold number of frozen burger patties that Burt had taken in payment for helping out someone he knew at the meat packing plant – told me to run some of the dessert pears through my electric juicer and then use that to make jelly. She said it was real light and sweet and worked well on a relish tray as well.
“And between me and you, if you just happen to let a few hot peppers fall in your jelly making juice you’ll probably have to fight the men off at the next dinner on the grounds. They get downright silly over it, and I wouldn’t mind sharing all the trouble they try to bring me.”
I had no idea whatsoever to say to that, but I couldn’t imagine that Sawyer would care for it too much so while I might try the hot pepper idea, I’d save it all for him. I can barely keep up with Sawyer’s silliness, I can’t imagine being open to wanting more from anyone else even if they were willing to be silly with Igor Baffa.
Uncle Carl and Gramps seemed to be everywhere at the same time. Most families had at least one press and it required the kids working at top speed to keep up with the demands for fruit, especially if they had an electric motor on the fly wheel of the grinder. Mid-afternoon many of the youngest children could be found on the front porch napping. Jeannie and Cindy were watching over them because they weren’t able to really do much. Cutter and Davis were forever running around the front to see if they needed anything. Gramps eventually got so irritated with the fact they weren’t staying focused that he sent them back to his place to pick up the next trailer load of apples from his part of the farm.
It didn’t take long for the juicing to get ahead of our ability to get it processed but then up the road came a truck that turned out to be driven by Toby. “Hey Ho the Hartford Clan!!”
An older man stepped out after Toby got the door open and though I didn’t really get introduced as I was in the middle of helping Burt get a big kettle of baked beans onto the grill to heat up and cutting up some of my own bread and butter pickles for relish.
Sawyer ran over and asked, “You gonna kill me if I take another five hundred pounds of peanuts from Toby?”
Giving him the eye I said, “I will if you don’t share them with your family. What on earth would we do with that many peanuts anyway?!”
He grinned, winked, and then headed back to where some of the men were conferring. I eventually found out that Toby’s grandfather was going to take most of the apple pomace off our hands and use it for feed for his pregnant cattle. He also wanted several bushels of whole apples and some fresh apple cider. In exchange he is going to barter the peanuts, a half of beef (we have to get Uncle James to help cut it for us), and some hard cheeses. The cheeses are still green and require aging but I’m so not complaining about that.
I was spooning the baked beans onto plates at dinner time when Gramps came through the line and asked me, “Baby Girl, you really mean to share out those peanuts?”
“Gramps, I’ve already dealt with five hundred pounds of peanuts. I’ve boiled and canned them green. I’ve shelled them and roasted them and then oven canned them in hopes they’ll last a while. I’ve boiled and flavored them and then canned that up. If you want, you can stick your head down in the basement and take a look at what five hundred pounds of peanuts looks like. The very idea of dealing with another five hundred …” I shuddered.
Gramps smiled real big. “Well now, that’s a fine thing. And I may just have Sawyer do some more bartering for the family. Hasn’t done too badly.”
Burt was putting burgers and dogs on plates as fast as I was putting beans and he said, “I’m not surprised. He’s done doggone good on the few of the runs I sent him out on. Came back with more than I expected and spent less for it. And with the economy being the way it is, it’s much appreciated.”
After the servers had gotten their chance to eat, I quietly went over to Burt and said, “I … I haven’t quite known how to ask how your brother is. I guess you know that Sawyer gets tight lipped when his name comes up but if I had a brother, even if he was a problem child, I’d still wish things were different.”
“Mason isn’t a child, but he is a problem. However, you’re right. I do wish things were different, but he’s picked his path and I’m not going to be blind to it any more. I tried to talk to him, tell him when he got out I’d try and get him some help but all he did was get in some trouble in County and get transferred to the state pen. Even with overcrowding and good behavior he’s going to be in there at least a year. I can’t imagine what our parents would say.”
“Maybe this will be his wake-up call.” But even Burt could hear the doubt in my voice.
“Guess you saw some rough stuff in foster care. Had a guy used to work for me that spent most of his early life in and out until his grandparents got the courts to let them adopt him. He told some stories I wouldn’t repeat in polite company.”
“Not all foster families are bad any more than all bio families are good. Most of the bad stuff happens because the courts or the social workers give bio parents a lot of rope to hang themselves with. But it is a Catch-22. Then again maybe I shouldn’t talk; there was no way I was ever going to get adopted and get a supposedly normal family life anyway.”
“Why do you say that?”
“For one the courts would have always found some excuse for it. That stupid trust fund that has a lot of sticky fingers all over it. Two, my medical needs up until a couple of years ago were more than most families could handle. But that’s all in the past and things are different now. That’s how I’m going to look at it and I’m going to make the best of it that I can and be the best that I can even if it falls shy of what others can do. Maybe Mason can get a clue and realize the same thing. He can start over, it won’t be easy, it may never be what it could have been, but it sure doesn’t have to be terrible.”
Burt looked at me, snorted, and said, “From your lips to God’s ears … and into Mason’s hard head.”
Sawyer picked that moment to come around the corner of the house, hear Mason’s name and snarl, “What about Mason?”
I turned and gave him a look that said mind his p’s and q’s. “Mason needs to be prayed for. He’s picked a hard road and is making it harder still and it makes the people who care about him very sad, so they need prayers too.”
Sawyer glowered but closed his mouth and instead grabbed a hot dog and started to load it up. After a moment he asked Burt, “Everything OK?”
“Is. Will be. Has to be. Believe I’ll go make sure your sister hasn’t been on her feet too long. She’s wilting earlier in the day even though it’s not as hot as it has been.”
After Burt was out of ear shot, I told him thank you and then explained about Mason digging his hole deeper and deeper. Sawyer sighed and shook his head. “I don’t want to feel sorry for him but …”
“Then don’t. Feeling sorry for someone never does any good and usually winds up making things worse. But you might say a prayer for him. Brother Don says we don’t forgive people for their sake but for our sake because carrying around a bunch of garbage is bad for us mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and just about every other way too. Plus he said God says we have to if we want to be forgiven. And if Brother Don is right and God sees all sins equally then maybe we need to tread real carefully when we say someone is worse than we are. That’s how I’m trying to see all those people who’ve been … well call it what it was, they were unkind, the exact opposite of what your family has been to me. I’m tired of … of having all that stuff hold me back and drag me down. I like our life Sawyer and I don’t want to taint it by bringing all the old garbage with me. That’d be like grinding worms with the apples for the fruit press. You might not be able to tell there are worm bits in there, but it would still spoil the juice all the same.”
“Damn sure would,” he said making a face. Then he leaned over and kissed me full on the lips. “I don’t want ‘worm bits’ floating in our juice either. But this is a hard grudge Kay-Lee and it isn’t going to go away overnight.”
“Fair enough. It’s not like it’s real easy to just put all of my insecurities aside and go with the flow that’s happening between us. Let’s just try and not let old ‘worm bits’ get in the way and spoil things.”
“You telling me to cut Burt some slack?”
“I’m not telling you anything Sawyer. You don’t need me to.”
“Uh huh,” he said but rather than being mad he slowly grinned. “Tell you what, I’ll go see if Burt needs some help getting that monster cooker cleaned up.”
I got another kiss from Sawyer and watched him walk away and wondered if I would ever be able to forgive anyone that separated me from him and found that maybe I was being more than a little self-righteous telling Sawyer the things the preacher said. I’m not sure I would be able to forgive someone that did that to us.
“Kay-Lee Baffa Hartford!” Uncle Carl irritably said walking towards me from the direction of the orchard. “Why didn’t I know about all these fruit trees?!”
It was early morning and I was still antsy about having so many of the family here at one time so my response wasn’t what you might call diplomatic in nature. “I don’t know because it isn’t like I haven’t been giving all the fruit away I can convince people to take on canning days. Need some coffee?”
Aunt Pearl rolled her eyes, laughed, and said, “You’ve got his number Kay-Lee. I don’t know who is worse, Carl or Sawyer. I’d say it was Ray if he was still with us. That man needed a whole pot of strong and black before he was even willing to think about being human.”
Sawyer came out onto the porch as soon as he heard Uncle Carl’s first bellow and before he could give some blow back I stuck the pot I had just used to fill that man’s mug under his nose and he followed me into the house like the aroma of fresh brewed coffee was a hook through his nostril. I heard some good-natured laughing behind us but it didn’t stop me from making sure that I filled the biggest coffee cup we had in the house and tell Sawyer to drink up. Sawyer had fallen in love with the ugly monstrosity at one of our thrift store runs and it doubled as a soup mug when he wasn’t using it to chug his black brew.
I went back to the kitchen to start another pot but Aunt Pearl said, “Don’t bother Honey. Let ‘em work the evil out chopping wood or clearing the trees. We do not have time for people to throw an attitude and be coddled. All of us need to cut back before we have to; it’s not like there is going to be a coffee fairy to bring us any when the stores run out. Why don’t you show me which trees you don’t mind us gleaning today.”
“Aunt Pearl the family should take whatever they need. I’ve got a lot already. And wasting food makes me itch.”
Linda stepped into the kitchen and said, “She isn’t telling stories Aunt Pearl. She got hives one time walking into the teachers’ lounge and seeing all they’d let go bad. I think that’s when she went into battle to try and get it changed to giving it to the football players and other jocks.”
I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t a battle. I just talked to Coach.” And to quickly change the subject I asked, “What are those things? Aren’t they wine presses?”
Uncle Carl who had come in looking chagrined at his earlier behavior said, “They’re fruit presses Honey, though they can be used for wine making right enough. C’mon and I’ll show you how they work.”
He insisted on helping me down the stairs and as he did so leaned over and whispered, “Shouldn’t have cracked the whip like that. But I’m with you, I hate waste.”
“Then let’s not let there be any. You tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Though I warn you, Aunt Pearl has already cut off the coffee supply. I think she’s on the warpath again.”
He got a very innocent look on his face and said quietly, “She had to wait on a few of the kids that she didn’t feel she should have had to wait on. But if I were you, I wouldn’t mention it. There’re some touchy for no reason and it ain’t just the kids. Dad changing plans in mid-squat like this has gotten the fur up of more than a few.”
Uncle Carl’s wife was a short woman everyone called “Dump”. It was short for Dumpling and apparently what she’d been called her whole life. When I asked what her real name was I got a few warnings not to ask again because apparently Aunt Dump considered it so horrible that she’d forbidden anyone to mention it. Aunt Dump came baring down on us to ask me, “You really mean for us to pick what we need?”
“Yes ma’am. I’ve been trying and trying on canning days but I think people must have thought I was kidding. I know everyone was so busy no one strayed far from the house to see how many trees there really are. I just can’t keep up with all the apple and pear trees. Mr. Baffa apparently planted the whole orchard back before he got sick with the intention of starting a farmer’s market or maybe selling at one or something. He wasn’t real clear in his notes which it was. But as you can see he didn’t do any such thing. Either way Sawyer thinks this may be the first full harvest from all the trees at once and I just don’t know how to … well … it’s a mess and I’m not sure what to do about it and Sawyer just looks at me and says ‘eat ‘em’.”
Aunt Dump nodded and then turned like a Battalion Commander and said, “Kids! Line up!” She proceeded to put them into groups and lead them out into the orchard.
“Whew,” I muttered under my breath.
Uncle Carl looked at me and winked and said, “Uh huh. Now let’s show you how these things work.”
Basically the short version is you pick the fruit then wash it to get rid of dirt and bugs, pick out the wood stems and leaves, cut the bad places out if need be, and then dump them into a hopper that directs them into a grinder that coarsely chops the fruit … peels, steeds, and fruit … and then drops it into a bucket that is nothing but slats that has been lined with this really fine mesh made of nylon. Uncle Carl said in the old days you would use cheesecloth but it was a messy business and the nylon mesh bags were re-usable and didn’t soak up any of the juice.
Once the slatted bucket was full a pressing plate was placed on top and then the pressing screw was turned. As the press squishes the fruit in the tub the juice comes out of the bottom and is funneled into another bucket. When the pressing is finished and all of the juice is squeezed out you are left with the very compacted remains of fruit. It is dense and heavy and called pomace.
The long version is everyone has their own way of doing things and I decided to stay out of it and watch rather than get drawn into some of the good-natured – and not so good-natured – rivalries.
After the first few batches of apples were run through, the resulting pomace was put into a big tub and covered with water and left to rehydrate overnight. Tomorrow it will be run through the press first thing in the morning and the resulting weak cider is called “Ciderkin” and will be used for the kids to drink the rest of the weekend to save the full strength for bottling and for turning into “hard cider” or fermented cider. The kids told me it was like apple-flavored Kool-Aid and to them it was one of the best things of the family harvest day.
Aunt Suzanne told me, “When I was a girl we used to give the fruit pomace to the chickens and pigs but supposedly the animals can eat too many seeds and die.”
“Is it true?”
“Wellll, I think mostly these days we can afford store bought feed so we don’t do it but better safe than sorry. They use it to feed cattle with but a cows got more than one stomach and processes what they eat different. They’re also some bigger than other animals with makes a difference too. Nowadays we just throw it on the compost pile. I see you’ve got a great big one started out yonder behind the barn. I was wondering where all the peels and such were going from canning days. I don’t think your pile is going to hold all the pomace we make this weekend. We’ll get about five gallons of pomace per hundred pounds of apples. We might have to piece it out.”
“Whatever you think best. Sawyer already had to use that metal security net that used to cover the outside tractor implements to cover the pile a few times because the raccoons and other animals were getting into it.”
“Too much fruit in the pile. I’ll have some of the kids that can’t climb trees rake up some of that cut, dried grass out of the orchard and we’ll throw it in layers with the pomace. That should help some. It’ll cut down on the vinegar smell as well as the pile ferments.”
We had multiple presses running split evenly between apples and pears except for a couple that didn’t have grinders on them that were used to press grapes. Not just the remaining grapes from our vines, but bushels of grapes brought by the rest of the Hartfords.
However even with all that activity going at the same time, pressing the apples and pears and grapes to get their juice was only part of the process. Oh no, nothing can ever be simple. And to be honest watching some of the other men and women get all persnickety about the varieties and amount of fruit used in each pressing came close to giving me a headache. The same kind of headache I would get when we would have a guest speaker who was a chef or some other kind of cook that insisted on turning a simple chore into a science experiment with all sorts of secret ingredients and ways of doing things. I know some people get a real charge out of that, but I don’t. Just press the doggone fruit and then give it to me to bottle up. It all gets drank by the same orifice and comes out the same end. The point is to make people happy with a full belly, not to make people worship the ground you walk on because you are some kind of food wizard.
When the aunts and uncles started squabbling, I left the scene and headed indoors where I could actually get some work done. After reading a lot of different sources and talking to the aunts I decided I was going to do up our share of the apple juice three ways. First I was going to leave it completely natural. This juice would have the most solids in it. Next, I was going to strain the juice through several layers of cheese cloth. This would leave some solids, but they mostly settle to the bottom of gallon and half-gallon jars and jugs that it would be stored in. The last type was filtered apple juice, and this would leave the clearest juice with almost no visible solids. I was using a water filter pitcher that I had lined with coffee filters. I would store some of this in pints for drinking or using in cooking but a lot of the filtered juice I was going to make into apply jelly. I have hopes that by using filtered juice I would get a clearer, prettier jelly than the cloudy stuff that I had made thus far. Of course, before I could get to that point I would have to process everything in a boiling water bath canner.
Pears I wasn’t going to be so choosey about. Sawyer had told me that he preferred a “full bodied” pear nectar rather than what he considered a thinned-out juice so that is what I was going to give him. I wasn’t going to filter the pear juice at all but bottle it up au natural by the quart. Mrs. Penny – who showed up with Delly and Burt and their kids about midmorning bringing a big cooker and an untold number of frozen burger patties that Burt had taken in payment for helping out someone he knew at the meat packing plant – told me to run some of the dessert pears through my electric juicer and then use that to make jelly. She said it was real light and sweet and worked well on a relish tray as well.
“And between me and you, if you just happen to let a few hot peppers fall in your jelly making juice you’ll probably have to fight the men off at the next dinner on the grounds. They get downright silly over it, and I wouldn’t mind sharing all the trouble they try to bring me.”
I had no idea whatsoever to say to that, but I couldn’t imagine that Sawyer would care for it too much so while I might try the hot pepper idea, I’d save it all for him. I can barely keep up with Sawyer’s silliness, I can’t imagine being open to wanting more from anyone else even if they were willing to be silly with Igor Baffa.
Uncle Carl and Gramps seemed to be everywhere at the same time. Most families had at least one press and it required the kids working at top speed to keep up with the demands for fruit, especially if they had an electric motor on the fly wheel of the grinder. Mid-afternoon many of the youngest children could be found on the front porch napping. Jeannie and Cindy were watching over them because they weren’t able to really do much. Cutter and Davis were forever running around the front to see if they needed anything. Gramps eventually got so irritated with the fact they weren’t staying focused that he sent them back to his place to pick up the next trailer load of apples from his part of the farm.
It didn’t take long for the juicing to get ahead of our ability to get it processed but then up the road came a truck that turned out to be driven by Toby. “Hey Ho the Hartford Clan!!”
An older man stepped out after Toby got the door open and though I didn’t really get introduced as I was in the middle of helping Burt get a big kettle of baked beans onto the grill to heat up and cutting up some of my own bread and butter pickles for relish.
Sawyer ran over and asked, “You gonna kill me if I take another five hundred pounds of peanuts from Toby?”
Giving him the eye I said, “I will if you don’t share them with your family. What on earth would we do with that many peanuts anyway?!”
He grinned, winked, and then headed back to where some of the men were conferring. I eventually found out that Toby’s grandfather was going to take most of the apple pomace off our hands and use it for feed for his pregnant cattle. He also wanted several bushels of whole apples and some fresh apple cider. In exchange he is going to barter the peanuts, a half of beef (we have to get Uncle James to help cut it for us), and some hard cheeses. The cheeses are still green and require aging but I’m so not complaining about that.
I was spooning the baked beans onto plates at dinner time when Gramps came through the line and asked me, “Baby Girl, you really mean to share out those peanuts?”
“Gramps, I’ve already dealt with five hundred pounds of peanuts. I’ve boiled and canned them green. I’ve shelled them and roasted them and then oven canned them in hopes they’ll last a while. I’ve boiled and flavored them and then canned that up. If you want, you can stick your head down in the basement and take a look at what five hundred pounds of peanuts looks like. The very idea of dealing with another five hundred …” I shuddered.
Gramps smiled real big. “Well now, that’s a fine thing. And I may just have Sawyer do some more bartering for the family. Hasn’t done too badly.”
Burt was putting burgers and dogs on plates as fast as I was putting beans and he said, “I’m not surprised. He’s done doggone good on the few of the runs I sent him out on. Came back with more than I expected and spent less for it. And with the economy being the way it is, it’s much appreciated.”
After the servers had gotten their chance to eat, I quietly went over to Burt and said, “I … I haven’t quite known how to ask how your brother is. I guess you know that Sawyer gets tight lipped when his name comes up but if I had a brother, even if he was a problem child, I’d still wish things were different.”
“Mason isn’t a child, but he is a problem. However, you’re right. I do wish things were different, but he’s picked his path and I’m not going to be blind to it any more. I tried to talk to him, tell him when he got out I’d try and get him some help but all he did was get in some trouble in County and get transferred to the state pen. Even with overcrowding and good behavior he’s going to be in there at least a year. I can’t imagine what our parents would say.”
“Maybe this will be his wake-up call.” But even Burt could hear the doubt in my voice.
“Guess you saw some rough stuff in foster care. Had a guy used to work for me that spent most of his early life in and out until his grandparents got the courts to let them adopt him. He told some stories I wouldn’t repeat in polite company.”
“Not all foster families are bad any more than all bio families are good. Most of the bad stuff happens because the courts or the social workers give bio parents a lot of rope to hang themselves with. But it is a Catch-22. Then again maybe I shouldn’t talk; there was no way I was ever going to get adopted and get a supposedly normal family life anyway.”
“Why do you say that?”
“For one the courts would have always found some excuse for it. That stupid trust fund that has a lot of sticky fingers all over it. Two, my medical needs up until a couple of years ago were more than most families could handle. But that’s all in the past and things are different now. That’s how I’m going to look at it and I’m going to make the best of it that I can and be the best that I can even if it falls shy of what others can do. Maybe Mason can get a clue and realize the same thing. He can start over, it won’t be easy, it may never be what it could have been, but it sure doesn’t have to be terrible.”
Burt looked at me, snorted, and said, “From your lips to God’s ears … and into Mason’s hard head.”
Sawyer picked that moment to come around the corner of the house, hear Mason’s name and snarl, “What about Mason?”
I turned and gave him a look that said mind his p’s and q’s. “Mason needs to be prayed for. He’s picked a hard road and is making it harder still and it makes the people who care about him very sad, so they need prayers too.”
Sawyer glowered but closed his mouth and instead grabbed a hot dog and started to load it up. After a moment he asked Burt, “Everything OK?”
“Is. Will be. Has to be. Believe I’ll go make sure your sister hasn’t been on her feet too long. She’s wilting earlier in the day even though it’s not as hot as it has been.”
After Burt was out of ear shot, I told him thank you and then explained about Mason digging his hole deeper and deeper. Sawyer sighed and shook his head. “I don’t want to feel sorry for him but …”
“Then don’t. Feeling sorry for someone never does any good and usually winds up making things worse. But you might say a prayer for him. Brother Don says we don’t forgive people for their sake but for our sake because carrying around a bunch of garbage is bad for us mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and just about every other way too. Plus he said God says we have to if we want to be forgiven. And if Brother Don is right and God sees all sins equally then maybe we need to tread real carefully when we say someone is worse than we are. That’s how I’m trying to see all those people who’ve been … well call it what it was, they were unkind, the exact opposite of what your family has been to me. I’m tired of … of having all that stuff hold me back and drag me down. I like our life Sawyer and I don’t want to taint it by bringing all the old garbage with me. That’d be like grinding worms with the apples for the fruit press. You might not be able to tell there are worm bits in there, but it would still spoil the juice all the same.”
“Damn sure would,” he said making a face. Then he leaned over and kissed me full on the lips. “I don’t want ‘worm bits’ floating in our juice either. But this is a hard grudge Kay-Lee and it isn’t going to go away overnight.”
“Fair enough. It’s not like it’s real easy to just put all of my insecurities aside and go with the flow that’s happening between us. Let’s just try and not let old ‘worm bits’ get in the way and spoil things.”
“You telling me to cut Burt some slack?”
“I’m not telling you anything Sawyer. You don’t need me to.”
“Uh huh,” he said but rather than being mad he slowly grinned. “Tell you what, I’ll go see if Burt needs some help getting that monster cooker cleaned up.”
I got another kiss from Sawyer and watched him walk away and wondered if I would ever be able to forgive anyone that separated me from him and found that maybe I was being more than a little self-righteous telling Sawyer the things the preacher said. I’m not sure I would be able to forgive someone that did that to us.
Chapter Sixty-Eight (part 1)
“I feel like I’m back in school,” grumped Sawyer.
“I feel like I never left. All I’ve been doing is learning new stuff since we got married,” I told him and I was only half joking when I said it.
Of course Sawyer had to look at me and wiggle his eyebrows to let me know what I said could be taken more than one way.
“Sawyer!”
He laughed but was soon swearing at the papers spread across the table between us all over again. “How the heck am I supposed to estimate the cords of wood we’re going to need?! All I’ve been able to find online is ‘annual heating degree days’ and these gawd awful calculations for the heat loss per hour per degree of temperature difference and a lot of other damn bunch of nonsense … and that’s if you are only heating with wood. Gramps wants us to figure it for everything … heating, cooking, you name it. Damn, damn, damn.”
“Well that one website said flat out that a 1200 square foot house that is reasonably insulated in this area of the country will probably need 10 cords of wood if it is the only source of heat. So if we double that and figure we can make up some of the difference by making the fireplace or stove pull double duty … cooking on the fireplace if it is running or heating with the stove if we have that running … then maybe we can just say 20 cords of wood and have done with it.”
“Kay-Lee you have any idea how much wood 20 cords is?!”
“No.”
Sawyer took a deep breath and explained, “A full cord of wood measures four feet high by four feet deep by eight feet long. And each piece of wood in that should be cut to about a twelve-inch length so that it will fit in your average fireplace. Stove wood is going to have to be cut smaller … a lot smaller which is going to be a hellacious about of work on top of everything else we got going on.”
“Cut it all the same and only cut the stove wood a couple of days at a time. This way there is no waste.”
“That’s exactly how it’s done but that doesn’t change things Kay-Lee. And this house is big so we are going to have to close off rooms and that sort of thing. But it isn’t just us that is going to need wood. Even if some of the smaller, better insulated places only need ten cords of wood … oh my gawd, we’ll never get it all cut and that’s just for a year. We’ll need to plant a forest just to get along from one year to the next.”
“So we’ll have to figure out ways to conserve. We’ve already started doing that by using trash wood in the outside fireplaces. We’ll have to expect it to be a few degrees colder in the house, put more blankets on the bed, wear more layers in the house. The aunts have said we’ll have to stop expecting to have snow in summer and the tropics in winter for our thermostats.”
“Suppose so. And if the winter is worse than normal which is what Gramps wants us to plan for? And then build in plenty of cushion in case wood is what we have to cook on for a good long while? Un-freaking-real. And trying to use the number people give out online is just as hard. I’ve seen people in Canada say they only use three cords to heat with and then people in New Jersey say they used twelve. How much wood is also determined by if you have someone home all day or not or whether it is supplementary heat, the primary heat with other sources, or the only source of heat. This is driving me crazy.”
“Sawyer, you’re making it too hard. Just shoot for twenty cords and if we need less we’ll let it season another year and if we need more it will be towards Spring and there will be trees that have come down over the winter that we’ll bring in.”
“Ignoring the fact that green wood doesn’t give near as much BTUs … heat … as well-seasoned wood does and hard woods give more than softer woods … oh my Lord my head is aching. Gramps isn’t going to like that kind of answer.”
“Well then if he don’t like our answer tell him to come up with one himself. He’s the one with all the experience.”
The look on Sawyer’s face was priceless. “Oh ho … and you can be the one to pop that particular comment at him and I’ll run for cover.”
Shaking my head I told him, “Gramps is a reasonable man. Just explain to him how we came up with the general number, show him that complicated formula, then tell him we doubled it since we were are going to try and save the propane as much as possible for emergencies rather than use it first. He’ll like that part even if he does make some suggestions about changing the number of cords that we figure we are going to need.”
Sawyer sighed, “I wish I had as much confidence in Gramps being reasonable as you do. What about the exercises that Aunt Pearl has set out?”
“Well, food is a little easier for me to figure since it is what I went to school for in the first place. The problem I’m having is figuring the number of calories we are going to use and make them real calories and not just empty ones. At rest an average man easily uses 2000 calories per day and never in almost six months have I ever seen you sit at rest for a full day. That means for you I need to figure about 3000 calories per day … or maybe more during the winter and heavy-duty workdays. But I can’t imagine you using four or five thousand calories every day all year so maybe if I figure 3500 calories as an average for you and about 2500 calories per day for me that’s 6000 calories per day of food and I know that might be cutting it short so I am trying to overshoot that. Besides how many I gotta consider the what. You can get to 6000 a lot of different ways; I need it to be with the most nutritious, energy-dense foods I can manage. I can do this but what makes me irritable is why didn’t we do this on the front end instead of on the tail end? Wouldn’t that have made more sense?”
“Probably but you gotta remember that Gramps and the rest of them are … well they aren’t bluffing their way through exactly but we’re all still learning too. The aunts have probably just done the best they can with the gardens and then pieced out at the grocery store but if we have to go back to old-time ways of getting everything out of the garden ‘cause their ain’t no grocery stores it is going to take them changing … and as you’ve seen some of ‘em aren’t exactly what you would call flexible. Some things that Gramps and the aunts and uncles used to do as a way of life got put to the side with modernization and stores being open closer to the farm and things like that. They’re re-leaning as much as they are learning. And no matter the why of it this is the reality we have to deal with. Yeah, in hindsight it would have been better to do this before we got started but we didn’t and now we are.”
I nodded. “You’re right. And I’ll stop complaining but it sure feels like the teacher has added a bunch of new rules in the middle of the project and shortened the deadline to get it done at the same.”
“That it do,” he agreed. “So, how are we doing on food?”
“Not too bad. Not as good as I thought we were if I’m supposed to be using these numbers I’m coming up with but I think we can pull it off this year. But next year if we don’t have power or fuel to do stuff like run the log splitter or the tractor getting to this point is going to be a lot more difficult if not next to impossible as things run out. Plus we’ll be using more calories to do everything manually which means more food stored. And I think I thought of a way to keep you in coffee for a while longer if we can get Burt to help out.”
Sawyer almost snorted the tea he’d just taken a sip of. “Hold that thought beautiful. As much as coffee means to my sanity let’s take one thing at a time.”
“Ok … food. I found several websites at the library today and they all seemed to give the same general numbers. Let’s start with 300 pounds of whole grains per person, for us that’s 600 pounds … and that doesn’t have to be just wheat or rice but those are the two biggies. If we go to the feed store we can get wheat at about a buck a pound. People say it is more expensive than it has ever been, and I’ll have to clean it before I use it, but I’ve had more than one person tell me it is safe for human consumption and some of the feeds even claim to be organic. Right now we’ve got about a hundred pounds of flour and about the same in cornmeal and then some odds and ends of other things in the pantry. The whole grains will be for long term. And instead of 600 I’d like to shoot for a thousand.”
“A thousand!” he yelped.
“I know it sounds like a lot and it is, but I did pretty well for us at Burt’s warehouse sale. Who would have thought anyone would have bought those ugly old ceramic lamps and stuff like that from the attic? It’s not like they were real antiques or anything. Mostly just old and strange looking junk. I think Mr. Baffa or someone that lived here once upon a time must have been a yardsale-a-holic. And while it might not be respectful I don’t care what he wanted, we are not holding onto all of that nasty stuff until Judgment Day. I check everything before it leaves the house and I’ve only found a few more of those cash stashes. After I’ve checked it, I clean it, tag it, and put it where I know what I can take to Burt’s and what doesn’t go. It is just too crazy to keep stuff that isn’t useful to store, and if anyone knows crazy it is me since it seems part of my family tree is loaded with it.”
Sawyer tried to hide a grin but it broke out anyway. “That Shally-Lee or whatever the heck her name is really is nuts. Gushing over some of that crap Burt is practically begging people to buy. And I thought Burt was going to swallow his face when you got triple the price for it that he had barely hoped to get.”
I shrugged. “Burt may be good at some things but getting people with more money than sense to buy his old junk isn’t one of them. Had them people that called themselves that silly name of ‘pickers’ come by, and I swear I still feel like I fleeced them.”
“Well don’t. They’ll turn around and sell that old junk to some sucker and will double their money.”
“Maybe so but I wasn’t looking to make a killing, just a good profit to make the warehouse sale worth it. Burt seemed happy anyway and we got a good amount to spend on what we need as well.”
“Yes we did. And Burt’s import and exchange business has picked back up a little because of the holidays and tourist season but he figures it won’t last long so every little bit counts. He’s nearly got himself and Delly completely out of debt. He had to sell his boat and that old hot rod he kept promising himself he was gonna work on to do it but the boat only got used a couple of times a year and he hadn’t worked on the hot rod since before … well a long time.”
Sawyer was still sensitive about admitting that he’d been in jail even if it was as an innocent man, so I glossed over his stumble and said, “Good for him. I was wondering why Delly was smiling and saying she had more room to work with now. I thought maybe your niece had moved out or something.”
“She’s your niece too.”
“By marriage I suppose. But I embarrass her.”
“Aw you do not.” At the look on my face he shook his head. “She’s too old for her britches but I wouldn’t call it being embarrassed by you. She’s just angry her life isn’t what she thinks it should be.”
“If she isn’t happy now, she’s really going to be in for a shock pretty soon. Even if the world doesn’t fall apart she’s not going to be the only princess in the house in not too many more months. I hope Delly and Burt are ready for it. I’ve met a lot of unhappy kids as I grew up and she looks like she could really let loose and let fly if she gets in the right mood.”
“She was like that as a real little thing but she isn’t like that now.”
“Uh huh, keep telling yourself that and be prepared for the drama. Now next comes beans.”
“Beans,” Sawyer deadpanned.
“Yes beans. The lists say 75 pounds per person per year and that makes 150 pounds we need. But I don’t see that is right. We eat a lot of beans and it is just the two of us. I’m going to double that to 300 pounds to account for the extra calories we’ll need and might even go higher if I can get a good deal on them. Dry beans keep forever … well a long time anyway. We’ve got about a hundred pounds of dried beans right now and probably every bit of that and more in canned beans. So saying we need another hundred. Prices are way up, but I think I can get them in bulk for about $40 per twenty-five pounds, that’s a total of $160 that we need to set aside for dried beans, peas, and other legumes.”
“Jumping … damn. Maybe that pile of cash you made at the warehouse sale isn’t going to go as far as I’d thought.”
“Probably not. I checked out the local sales flyers when we were at the library and prices are sky-high and going higher. Crazy high. People aren’t going to be able to absorb this much longer. Especially people on fixed incomes and stuff like that.”
“People are already having problems. I hear people at church talk and the church is discussing closing down the food pantry because with the new laws they aren’t able to blacklist anyone even if they know they are abusing charity.”
I nodded but kept figuring. “After grain and beans comes dairy. This is where I feel the least prepared. All the sites I looked at said to count on needing 60 pounds per person per year but I know this is a really low figure. Dairy includes not just milk but milk products like butter and cheese and then there’s things like eggs. Burt said that he knows a guy at the bread factory over in Hightown and he thinks he can convince him to sell us some dried milk and dried eggs because he knows they use it by the ton. Our problem would be getting it stored for long term use.”
Sawyer had his head in the game and said, “Might have a solution to that. I went to school with a guy that was LDS and I know his folks have one of those canning machines at home. I saw him the other day and we got to talking. His folks are looking for some canning pears – Aunt Suzanne’s tree isn’t the only one that has taken a dump this year – and I believe we could trade for the use of that machine. Might have to take everything to their place and do it under the radar but I don’t have a problem with that. The question is where to get them cans.” He jotted a couple of quick notes and then added, “I’m going to see him tomorrow and I’ll see if I can’t talk him around to a trade. What’s next?”
“We’re way over for fruits and veggies so I’m just going to keep on doing what we’re doing. Oils and stuff like that – cooking oils I mean – we could stand to have more of, but you said we’d likely get some lard at butchering time. Sweeteners we definitely need more of to replace what we are using now to preserve food with and then to stay ahead and have any for next year’s canning season. Condiments and things like that I’m canning as I can find recipes and ingredients and we are ok. We used a lot more Labor Day Weekend than I expected but I can fix that with a day of canning so bring on the tomatoes. I think we’ll be ok in meat if you really do get anything hunting.”
Sawyer flipped to a different page in his notepad and said, “Archery season is on in a couple of days; regular deer season starts the middle of next month as does most other hunting. I can take dove most of this month, up to fifteen a day. They don’t have a lot of meat on their bones and they ain’t that fun to clean and cook but they’d piece out what we have. And they’re turning into a problem in a couple of the fields so Gramps won’t croak about the time spent. You up for it?”
“They’re just little chickens and I think I’ve already proved that I can fix you chicken from butchering to table.”
“Yes you have. And you were right, that hen would have been pecked to death if you hadn’t taken her and put her out of her misery. I’m mostly sorry I didn’t think that bobcat would be back. I was sure that the dogs would keep her off.”
“She probably just thought she’d found an easy dinner. I’m kinda sorry that Uncle Carl shot it. What if she’d had babies or something?”
“Wrong time of year for it or he probably wouldn’t have done it. But that ol’ bob was too bold. She would have kept coming back until either she got a chicken, got in a fight with the dogs, or worse … attacked you if you’d accidentally startled her. Besides, that’s the way nature happens sometimes.”
“I guess so.” I shook the sadness away and tried not to see the beautiful animal with the life all gone from it. “OK, so we’ve got food covered … at least on paper. But speaking of paper, that’s where I think we’re coming up short.”
“The toilet paper.”
“Yeah. I guess it is one of the things I just didn’t think about in the beginning because I thought I was being so smart … cloth napkins, washable handkerchiefs, that sort of thing. But with all the people over here for canning days and then for harvest festival we don’t have much left.”
“I didn’t give much thought to it either until we had that clog in the lines. Uncle Ned – and go ahead and laugh, the whole family thinks Gramps’ other living brother is pretty strange – said we’re lucky that the drain field didn’t collapse on the septic system. He said it had to be dry as a bone from so little usage and that likely the only reason it was able to take what all those canning days are dishing out with all you women in the house.”
“Yeah well … not to be crude but I wish you guys would find someplace else to point and shoot. You’re killing the grass in places.”
Sawyer gave a surprised bark of laughter. “We would if someone wasn’t always in the outhouse. Uncle Ned said we should have built a two- or three-seater.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, I just tried to pull the conversation back to a more constructive path. “Next run to town toilet paper is going to have to be at the top of the list. We also need to stock up on foil, plastic wrap, wax paper, parchment paper … and the dreaded zip bags if we can find them on sale.”
“OK,” Sawyer said nodding and scribbling on his list. “Next?”
“I feel like I’m back in school,” grumped Sawyer.
“I feel like I never left. All I’ve been doing is learning new stuff since we got married,” I told him and I was only half joking when I said it.
Of course Sawyer had to look at me and wiggle his eyebrows to let me know what I said could be taken more than one way.
“Sawyer!”
He laughed but was soon swearing at the papers spread across the table between us all over again. “How the heck am I supposed to estimate the cords of wood we’re going to need?! All I’ve been able to find online is ‘annual heating degree days’ and these gawd awful calculations for the heat loss per hour per degree of temperature difference and a lot of other damn bunch of nonsense … and that’s if you are only heating with wood. Gramps wants us to figure it for everything … heating, cooking, you name it. Damn, damn, damn.”
“Well that one website said flat out that a 1200 square foot house that is reasonably insulated in this area of the country will probably need 10 cords of wood if it is the only source of heat. So if we double that and figure we can make up some of the difference by making the fireplace or stove pull double duty … cooking on the fireplace if it is running or heating with the stove if we have that running … then maybe we can just say 20 cords of wood and have done with it.”
“Kay-Lee you have any idea how much wood 20 cords is?!”
“No.”
Sawyer took a deep breath and explained, “A full cord of wood measures four feet high by four feet deep by eight feet long. And each piece of wood in that should be cut to about a twelve-inch length so that it will fit in your average fireplace. Stove wood is going to have to be cut smaller … a lot smaller which is going to be a hellacious about of work on top of everything else we got going on.”
“Cut it all the same and only cut the stove wood a couple of days at a time. This way there is no waste.”
“That’s exactly how it’s done but that doesn’t change things Kay-Lee. And this house is big so we are going to have to close off rooms and that sort of thing. But it isn’t just us that is going to need wood. Even if some of the smaller, better insulated places only need ten cords of wood … oh my gawd, we’ll never get it all cut and that’s just for a year. We’ll need to plant a forest just to get along from one year to the next.”
“So we’ll have to figure out ways to conserve. We’ve already started doing that by using trash wood in the outside fireplaces. We’ll have to expect it to be a few degrees colder in the house, put more blankets on the bed, wear more layers in the house. The aunts have said we’ll have to stop expecting to have snow in summer and the tropics in winter for our thermostats.”
“Suppose so. And if the winter is worse than normal which is what Gramps wants us to plan for? And then build in plenty of cushion in case wood is what we have to cook on for a good long while? Un-freaking-real. And trying to use the number people give out online is just as hard. I’ve seen people in Canada say they only use three cords to heat with and then people in New Jersey say they used twelve. How much wood is also determined by if you have someone home all day or not or whether it is supplementary heat, the primary heat with other sources, or the only source of heat. This is driving me crazy.”
“Sawyer, you’re making it too hard. Just shoot for twenty cords and if we need less we’ll let it season another year and if we need more it will be towards Spring and there will be trees that have come down over the winter that we’ll bring in.”
“Ignoring the fact that green wood doesn’t give near as much BTUs … heat … as well-seasoned wood does and hard woods give more than softer woods … oh my Lord my head is aching. Gramps isn’t going to like that kind of answer.”
“Well then if he don’t like our answer tell him to come up with one himself. He’s the one with all the experience.”
The look on Sawyer’s face was priceless. “Oh ho … and you can be the one to pop that particular comment at him and I’ll run for cover.”
Shaking my head I told him, “Gramps is a reasonable man. Just explain to him how we came up with the general number, show him that complicated formula, then tell him we doubled it since we were are going to try and save the propane as much as possible for emergencies rather than use it first. He’ll like that part even if he does make some suggestions about changing the number of cords that we figure we are going to need.”
Sawyer sighed, “I wish I had as much confidence in Gramps being reasonable as you do. What about the exercises that Aunt Pearl has set out?”
“Well, food is a little easier for me to figure since it is what I went to school for in the first place. The problem I’m having is figuring the number of calories we are going to use and make them real calories and not just empty ones. At rest an average man easily uses 2000 calories per day and never in almost six months have I ever seen you sit at rest for a full day. That means for you I need to figure about 3000 calories per day … or maybe more during the winter and heavy-duty workdays. But I can’t imagine you using four or five thousand calories every day all year so maybe if I figure 3500 calories as an average for you and about 2500 calories per day for me that’s 6000 calories per day of food and I know that might be cutting it short so I am trying to overshoot that. Besides how many I gotta consider the what. You can get to 6000 a lot of different ways; I need it to be with the most nutritious, energy-dense foods I can manage. I can do this but what makes me irritable is why didn’t we do this on the front end instead of on the tail end? Wouldn’t that have made more sense?”
“Probably but you gotta remember that Gramps and the rest of them are … well they aren’t bluffing their way through exactly but we’re all still learning too. The aunts have probably just done the best they can with the gardens and then pieced out at the grocery store but if we have to go back to old-time ways of getting everything out of the garden ‘cause their ain’t no grocery stores it is going to take them changing … and as you’ve seen some of ‘em aren’t exactly what you would call flexible. Some things that Gramps and the aunts and uncles used to do as a way of life got put to the side with modernization and stores being open closer to the farm and things like that. They’re re-leaning as much as they are learning. And no matter the why of it this is the reality we have to deal with. Yeah, in hindsight it would have been better to do this before we got started but we didn’t and now we are.”
I nodded. “You’re right. And I’ll stop complaining but it sure feels like the teacher has added a bunch of new rules in the middle of the project and shortened the deadline to get it done at the same.”
“That it do,” he agreed. “So, how are we doing on food?”
“Not too bad. Not as good as I thought we were if I’m supposed to be using these numbers I’m coming up with but I think we can pull it off this year. But next year if we don’t have power or fuel to do stuff like run the log splitter or the tractor getting to this point is going to be a lot more difficult if not next to impossible as things run out. Plus we’ll be using more calories to do everything manually which means more food stored. And I think I thought of a way to keep you in coffee for a while longer if we can get Burt to help out.”
Sawyer almost snorted the tea he’d just taken a sip of. “Hold that thought beautiful. As much as coffee means to my sanity let’s take one thing at a time.”
“Ok … food. I found several websites at the library today and they all seemed to give the same general numbers. Let’s start with 300 pounds of whole grains per person, for us that’s 600 pounds … and that doesn’t have to be just wheat or rice but those are the two biggies. If we go to the feed store we can get wheat at about a buck a pound. People say it is more expensive than it has ever been, and I’ll have to clean it before I use it, but I’ve had more than one person tell me it is safe for human consumption and some of the feeds even claim to be organic. Right now we’ve got about a hundred pounds of flour and about the same in cornmeal and then some odds and ends of other things in the pantry. The whole grains will be for long term. And instead of 600 I’d like to shoot for a thousand.”
“A thousand!” he yelped.
“I know it sounds like a lot and it is, but I did pretty well for us at Burt’s warehouse sale. Who would have thought anyone would have bought those ugly old ceramic lamps and stuff like that from the attic? It’s not like they were real antiques or anything. Mostly just old and strange looking junk. I think Mr. Baffa or someone that lived here once upon a time must have been a yardsale-a-holic. And while it might not be respectful I don’t care what he wanted, we are not holding onto all of that nasty stuff until Judgment Day. I check everything before it leaves the house and I’ve only found a few more of those cash stashes. After I’ve checked it, I clean it, tag it, and put it where I know what I can take to Burt’s and what doesn’t go. It is just too crazy to keep stuff that isn’t useful to store, and if anyone knows crazy it is me since it seems part of my family tree is loaded with it.”
Sawyer tried to hide a grin but it broke out anyway. “That Shally-Lee or whatever the heck her name is really is nuts. Gushing over some of that crap Burt is practically begging people to buy. And I thought Burt was going to swallow his face when you got triple the price for it that he had barely hoped to get.”
I shrugged. “Burt may be good at some things but getting people with more money than sense to buy his old junk isn’t one of them. Had them people that called themselves that silly name of ‘pickers’ come by, and I swear I still feel like I fleeced them.”
“Well don’t. They’ll turn around and sell that old junk to some sucker and will double their money.”
“Maybe so but I wasn’t looking to make a killing, just a good profit to make the warehouse sale worth it. Burt seemed happy anyway and we got a good amount to spend on what we need as well.”
“Yes we did. And Burt’s import and exchange business has picked back up a little because of the holidays and tourist season but he figures it won’t last long so every little bit counts. He’s nearly got himself and Delly completely out of debt. He had to sell his boat and that old hot rod he kept promising himself he was gonna work on to do it but the boat only got used a couple of times a year and he hadn’t worked on the hot rod since before … well a long time.”
Sawyer was still sensitive about admitting that he’d been in jail even if it was as an innocent man, so I glossed over his stumble and said, “Good for him. I was wondering why Delly was smiling and saying she had more room to work with now. I thought maybe your niece had moved out or something.”
“She’s your niece too.”
“By marriage I suppose. But I embarrass her.”
“Aw you do not.” At the look on my face he shook his head. “She’s too old for her britches but I wouldn’t call it being embarrassed by you. She’s just angry her life isn’t what she thinks it should be.”
“If she isn’t happy now, she’s really going to be in for a shock pretty soon. Even if the world doesn’t fall apart she’s not going to be the only princess in the house in not too many more months. I hope Delly and Burt are ready for it. I’ve met a lot of unhappy kids as I grew up and she looks like she could really let loose and let fly if she gets in the right mood.”
“She was like that as a real little thing but she isn’t like that now.”
“Uh huh, keep telling yourself that and be prepared for the drama. Now next comes beans.”
“Beans,” Sawyer deadpanned.
“Yes beans. The lists say 75 pounds per person per year and that makes 150 pounds we need. But I don’t see that is right. We eat a lot of beans and it is just the two of us. I’m going to double that to 300 pounds to account for the extra calories we’ll need and might even go higher if I can get a good deal on them. Dry beans keep forever … well a long time anyway. We’ve got about a hundred pounds of dried beans right now and probably every bit of that and more in canned beans. So saying we need another hundred. Prices are way up, but I think I can get them in bulk for about $40 per twenty-five pounds, that’s a total of $160 that we need to set aside for dried beans, peas, and other legumes.”
“Jumping … damn. Maybe that pile of cash you made at the warehouse sale isn’t going to go as far as I’d thought.”
“Probably not. I checked out the local sales flyers when we were at the library and prices are sky-high and going higher. Crazy high. People aren’t going to be able to absorb this much longer. Especially people on fixed incomes and stuff like that.”
“People are already having problems. I hear people at church talk and the church is discussing closing down the food pantry because with the new laws they aren’t able to blacklist anyone even if they know they are abusing charity.”
I nodded but kept figuring. “After grain and beans comes dairy. This is where I feel the least prepared. All the sites I looked at said to count on needing 60 pounds per person per year but I know this is a really low figure. Dairy includes not just milk but milk products like butter and cheese and then there’s things like eggs. Burt said that he knows a guy at the bread factory over in Hightown and he thinks he can convince him to sell us some dried milk and dried eggs because he knows they use it by the ton. Our problem would be getting it stored for long term use.”
Sawyer had his head in the game and said, “Might have a solution to that. I went to school with a guy that was LDS and I know his folks have one of those canning machines at home. I saw him the other day and we got to talking. His folks are looking for some canning pears – Aunt Suzanne’s tree isn’t the only one that has taken a dump this year – and I believe we could trade for the use of that machine. Might have to take everything to their place and do it under the radar but I don’t have a problem with that. The question is where to get them cans.” He jotted a couple of quick notes and then added, “I’m going to see him tomorrow and I’ll see if I can’t talk him around to a trade. What’s next?”
“We’re way over for fruits and veggies so I’m just going to keep on doing what we’re doing. Oils and stuff like that – cooking oils I mean – we could stand to have more of, but you said we’d likely get some lard at butchering time. Sweeteners we definitely need more of to replace what we are using now to preserve food with and then to stay ahead and have any for next year’s canning season. Condiments and things like that I’m canning as I can find recipes and ingredients and we are ok. We used a lot more Labor Day Weekend than I expected but I can fix that with a day of canning so bring on the tomatoes. I think we’ll be ok in meat if you really do get anything hunting.”
Sawyer flipped to a different page in his notepad and said, “Archery season is on in a couple of days; regular deer season starts the middle of next month as does most other hunting. I can take dove most of this month, up to fifteen a day. They don’t have a lot of meat on their bones and they ain’t that fun to clean and cook but they’d piece out what we have. And they’re turning into a problem in a couple of the fields so Gramps won’t croak about the time spent. You up for it?”
“They’re just little chickens and I think I’ve already proved that I can fix you chicken from butchering to table.”
“Yes you have. And you were right, that hen would have been pecked to death if you hadn’t taken her and put her out of her misery. I’m mostly sorry I didn’t think that bobcat would be back. I was sure that the dogs would keep her off.”
“She probably just thought she’d found an easy dinner. I’m kinda sorry that Uncle Carl shot it. What if she’d had babies or something?”
“Wrong time of year for it or he probably wouldn’t have done it. But that ol’ bob was too bold. She would have kept coming back until either she got a chicken, got in a fight with the dogs, or worse … attacked you if you’d accidentally startled her. Besides, that’s the way nature happens sometimes.”
“I guess so.” I shook the sadness away and tried not to see the beautiful animal with the life all gone from it. “OK, so we’ve got food covered … at least on paper. But speaking of paper, that’s where I think we’re coming up short.”
“The toilet paper.”
“Yeah. I guess it is one of the things I just didn’t think about in the beginning because I thought I was being so smart … cloth napkins, washable handkerchiefs, that sort of thing. But with all the people over here for canning days and then for harvest festival we don’t have much left.”
“I didn’t give much thought to it either until we had that clog in the lines. Uncle Ned – and go ahead and laugh, the whole family thinks Gramps’ other living brother is pretty strange – said we’re lucky that the drain field didn’t collapse on the septic system. He said it had to be dry as a bone from so little usage and that likely the only reason it was able to take what all those canning days are dishing out with all you women in the house.”
“Yeah well … not to be crude but I wish you guys would find someplace else to point and shoot. You’re killing the grass in places.”
Sawyer gave a surprised bark of laughter. “We would if someone wasn’t always in the outhouse. Uncle Ned said we should have built a two- or three-seater.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, I just tried to pull the conversation back to a more constructive path. “Next run to town toilet paper is going to have to be at the top of the list. We also need to stock up on foil, plastic wrap, wax paper, parchment paper … and the dreaded zip bags if we can find them on sale.”
“OK,” Sawyer said nodding and scribbling on his list. “Next?”
Chapter 68 (Part 2)
“Cleaning supplies. I need more Borax, washing soda, and fels naptha for making that slime Linda’s mother taught us to make for laundry detergent. It is way cheaper than store bought stuff but it still isn’t free. We need more bleach too or I’m going to wind up using too much peroxide out of our supplies that we might need for other stuff. Vinegar. Definitely need to lay in a bigger supply of vinegar than I thought. I didn’t realize how much I would go through while canning and pickling and I use vinegar in the rinse water and for a bunch of other jobs too. Then regular cleaners like ammonia, scrubbing powder, and toilet bowl scrubber. We need a new mop so we might as well get two and we need an extra house broom because the dogs chewed the bristles on the one I used upstairs and now I can only use it outside.”
I continued running through things in my head and when I finally ran out of steam Sawyer went, “Whew! But it’s still not as bad as it could be. I wish my razors didn’t cost so much but I go through twice as many of the cheap ones to get half the shave.”
“Then stick to the ones you prefer. We’ll figure it out,” I told him. “What do you need to add to the list?”
“Dog food … at least the dry kibble. They could hunt for themselves maybe but I’d prefer for them to get their food from us. I don’t want them to start thinking of the chickens as snacks. I also don’t want them traipsing all over the place hunting unless it is with me. Crossing the road or crossing onto someone else’s land is a good way for a dog to get shot.”
“OK, dog food. What else?”
“I need to go through and make sure that I have all the spare parts I could want for the truck and the tractor. I’m sorry the car idea never worked out for you.”
Not upset though it would have been nice to at least have been able to get out even if I never had I told Sawyer, “It hasn’t hurt anything. Better to learn first thing that the motor and transmission was shot and not worth fixing than to get stuck someplace when it broke down. I still can’t believe that guy bought it even though it was in that kinda shape. Anything else?”
We continued to go back and forth and then Sawyer asked, “Is there anything that you want? Clothes, shoes, hair junk or the like?”
I’d been thinking about wants to prepare for his question. “I don’t need any of that stuff, but I’d like to get some more thread and needles for that treadle machine you brought home. We need a couple of spare belts or some way to make them too. Also, you know what frozen fruit concentrate is?”
“Yeah. Like for orange juice.”
“Exactly. I’d like to get a bunch of them if I can find coupons for them then let them thaw and can them up in jelly jars or half-pint jars. That powdered orange breakfast drink is ok, but it doesn’t taste like real orange juice.”
“Can you bottle that stuff up like that? The concentrate I mean.”
“Yeah, or so says a couple of those homesteading websites that we were looking at this morning. And I’d like to buy some books on foraging … you know … that would let me really get into hunting wild foods up and preserving them some way.”
“You already do more of that than even the aunts.”
“I don’t care.” I stopped and drew a breath and calmed myself down. “That sounded snarky. Sorry.”
“Stop worrying about offending me because they’re family. If it’s the truth then let it fly … or at least you can when it’s just the two of us. You know I do.”
I laid my head on his shoulder briefly to thank him and then said, “It is just ever since Aunt Pearl and Aunt Suzanne brought up foraging months ago I thought it was fantastic and that it would be a great way to get things done practically for free but everyone just seems to want to do things the way they always have been. Yet I keep hearing Gramps say pretty soon that’s going to be over with, at least over with for a while. It seems to me it is a lot safer to experiment when you have a choice and a safety net than have to do it the right way first time around or else.”
“I have to admit it was a little weird eating some of that stuff at first, but you hid it so well that half the time I didn’t notice until you told me. Now it is just part of the landscape and old hat. But you gotta admit, tricking Cutter into eating kudzu was just about the best laugh there’s ever been. He thought it was spinach.”
I smiled mischievously. “Well it didn’t hurt him though for a while there he acted like his head was going to fall off and roll around.”
“Yeah and now he’s bragging to anyone that will listen, daring them to eat kudzu and Beth can’t get him to shut up about it.”
“Whatever works. At least she knows they never have to go hungry while there is kudzu.”
Sawyer chuckled, “Considering how much food Cutter can put away you ain’t kidding.”
Having witnessed the horror I told him, “They actually eat a lot of that stuff over in Asia so it shouldn’t be that big of a surprise. It is just a matter of knowing how to pick it and cook it and if Beth can figure out okra then she should be able to figure out kudzu.”
“Admit it, you’re starting to like okra.”
“I never didn’t like okra. I just don’t like slimy okra like it gets when it is pickled. I swear it is like trying to eat snot.” I shuddered and quickly changed the subject.
“Sawyer the handle on the bucket I was using to gather the hickory and butternuts in broke again. If you can find a couple of empty five-gallon buckets it would be great. I’ll keep that bucket for mopping floors or something like that.”
“There’s a whole stack of them at Uncle Forrester’s place just going to waste. I’ll ask him if I can have a couple.”
“Thank you. Tell him I’ll trade some hazelnuts for them because those are ready to come in as well. And I think the chestnuts will be ready the last week of September if he wants those too or instead.”
Sawyer asked, “What all are you still foraging? With it being September I would have thought some of that would have slowed down.”
“Actually, except for some of the greens, it has really picked up. You know about all the nuts.”
“Yeah but that’s stuff we normally do anyway.”
“OK but I guess me collecting wild leeks … what some of y’all call ramps … has lasted longer than that festival thing in the beginning which is more for fun than food. Wild leek bulbs will stop being worth digging by the end of this month so I’m getting what I can without taking too much so there will be some to come up next year. I’ve got more sumac drupes than I know what to do with but I’m hoping they’ll help piece out the lemon when all I need is a lemony flavor and not the citric acid in the lemon.” Sawyer nodded but I could tell he was only pretending to understand what I meant to humor me. Next I told him, “Those three trees we didn’t know what they were are apparently something called a quince. I have no idea who planted them but they’ve been there a while. Mr. Baffa’s mother was half English so maybe she did it though I don’t think the trees are quite that old. According to the book I read the trees only live thirty-five years.”
“Hmmm. Story that I’m finally piecing together is that Ol’ Man Baffa used to have a woman living up here with him. Not the one he had a kid with but a different one. Though the way it being told goes she was strange too. Kinda like a hippie. When she left is when Baffa really started acting weird so maybe they did drugs together or something.”
“Ew. TMI Sawyer. It is bad enough to think about most of the family tree being crazy, I don’t want to think about them being addicts too.”
“Everyone’s family tree has some nuts on it. And there isn’t a family around that hasn’t had a few bad un’s in it and they’re lying if they say they don’t. And if you don’t believe me ask Brother Don; he’ll tell some stories on his family that make it sound like some of ‘em are on the long black train straight to hell and racing to see who gets there first. Stop worrying about it. You’ve seen how Uncle Ned is. Lives off in that run down cabin by himself and only comes out every so often if he needs something. And it’s not like he has to either. Gramps and Uncle Forrester have tried for years to get him to be more involved with the family but Uncle Ned is just Uncle Ned. Some of the aunts take turns going up to his place to clean things up two or three times a year but that’s about all he’ll tolerate it.”
“Uncle Ned may be different but he isn’t awful or anything.”
“That’s ‘cause he went sweet on you when he found out how interested you are in all this foraging stuff we’re talking about.”
“Well he was the one that told me those trees were quinces. And he also showed me how to use Autumnberries[1], beautyberries[2], and those red berries off the spice bushes[3][4].”
“Yeah, he did. And the family was surprised that he agreed to stay the night here. Usually they are worrying about him getting home before dark on that crazy road up to his place. I guess I’m not the only one that likes your cooking.”
“Oh you! Stop. He was just being nice.”
“He sure was and you just don’t get how unusual that is,” Sawyer said with a laugh. “But he did say that we need to get the last of the parsnips and burdock dug before they aren’t worth the trouble. Want some help with that?”
[1] http://foragersharvest.com/autumnberry-autumn-olive/
[2] American Beautyberry
[3] http://www.wildmanstevebrill.com/Plants.Folder/Spicebush.html
[4] http://www.gardensinthewood.com/Blog/category/spicebush-berry-recipes/
“Cleaning supplies. I need more Borax, washing soda, and fels naptha for making that slime Linda’s mother taught us to make for laundry detergent. It is way cheaper than store bought stuff but it still isn’t free. We need more bleach too or I’m going to wind up using too much peroxide out of our supplies that we might need for other stuff. Vinegar. Definitely need to lay in a bigger supply of vinegar than I thought. I didn’t realize how much I would go through while canning and pickling and I use vinegar in the rinse water and for a bunch of other jobs too. Then regular cleaners like ammonia, scrubbing powder, and toilet bowl scrubber. We need a new mop so we might as well get two and we need an extra house broom because the dogs chewed the bristles on the one I used upstairs and now I can only use it outside.”
I continued running through things in my head and when I finally ran out of steam Sawyer went, “Whew! But it’s still not as bad as it could be. I wish my razors didn’t cost so much but I go through twice as many of the cheap ones to get half the shave.”
“Then stick to the ones you prefer. We’ll figure it out,” I told him. “What do you need to add to the list?”
“Dog food … at least the dry kibble. They could hunt for themselves maybe but I’d prefer for them to get their food from us. I don’t want them to start thinking of the chickens as snacks. I also don’t want them traipsing all over the place hunting unless it is with me. Crossing the road or crossing onto someone else’s land is a good way for a dog to get shot.”
“OK, dog food. What else?”
“I need to go through and make sure that I have all the spare parts I could want for the truck and the tractor. I’m sorry the car idea never worked out for you.”
Not upset though it would have been nice to at least have been able to get out even if I never had I told Sawyer, “It hasn’t hurt anything. Better to learn first thing that the motor and transmission was shot and not worth fixing than to get stuck someplace when it broke down. I still can’t believe that guy bought it even though it was in that kinda shape. Anything else?”
We continued to go back and forth and then Sawyer asked, “Is there anything that you want? Clothes, shoes, hair junk or the like?”
I’d been thinking about wants to prepare for his question. “I don’t need any of that stuff, but I’d like to get some more thread and needles for that treadle machine you brought home. We need a couple of spare belts or some way to make them too. Also, you know what frozen fruit concentrate is?”
“Yeah. Like for orange juice.”
“Exactly. I’d like to get a bunch of them if I can find coupons for them then let them thaw and can them up in jelly jars or half-pint jars. That powdered orange breakfast drink is ok, but it doesn’t taste like real orange juice.”
“Can you bottle that stuff up like that? The concentrate I mean.”
“Yeah, or so says a couple of those homesteading websites that we were looking at this morning. And I’d like to buy some books on foraging … you know … that would let me really get into hunting wild foods up and preserving them some way.”
“You already do more of that than even the aunts.”
“I don’t care.” I stopped and drew a breath and calmed myself down. “That sounded snarky. Sorry.”
“Stop worrying about offending me because they’re family. If it’s the truth then let it fly … or at least you can when it’s just the two of us. You know I do.”
I laid my head on his shoulder briefly to thank him and then said, “It is just ever since Aunt Pearl and Aunt Suzanne brought up foraging months ago I thought it was fantastic and that it would be a great way to get things done practically for free but everyone just seems to want to do things the way they always have been. Yet I keep hearing Gramps say pretty soon that’s going to be over with, at least over with for a while. It seems to me it is a lot safer to experiment when you have a choice and a safety net than have to do it the right way first time around or else.”
“I have to admit it was a little weird eating some of that stuff at first, but you hid it so well that half the time I didn’t notice until you told me. Now it is just part of the landscape and old hat. But you gotta admit, tricking Cutter into eating kudzu was just about the best laugh there’s ever been. He thought it was spinach.”
I smiled mischievously. “Well it didn’t hurt him though for a while there he acted like his head was going to fall off and roll around.”
“Yeah and now he’s bragging to anyone that will listen, daring them to eat kudzu and Beth can’t get him to shut up about it.”
“Whatever works. At least she knows they never have to go hungry while there is kudzu.”
Sawyer chuckled, “Considering how much food Cutter can put away you ain’t kidding.”
Having witnessed the horror I told him, “They actually eat a lot of that stuff over in Asia so it shouldn’t be that big of a surprise. It is just a matter of knowing how to pick it and cook it and if Beth can figure out okra then she should be able to figure out kudzu.”
“Admit it, you’re starting to like okra.”
“I never didn’t like okra. I just don’t like slimy okra like it gets when it is pickled. I swear it is like trying to eat snot.” I shuddered and quickly changed the subject.
“Sawyer the handle on the bucket I was using to gather the hickory and butternuts in broke again. If you can find a couple of empty five-gallon buckets it would be great. I’ll keep that bucket for mopping floors or something like that.”
“There’s a whole stack of them at Uncle Forrester’s place just going to waste. I’ll ask him if I can have a couple.”
“Thank you. Tell him I’ll trade some hazelnuts for them because those are ready to come in as well. And I think the chestnuts will be ready the last week of September if he wants those too or instead.”
Sawyer asked, “What all are you still foraging? With it being September I would have thought some of that would have slowed down.”
“Actually, except for some of the greens, it has really picked up. You know about all the nuts.”
“Yeah but that’s stuff we normally do anyway.”
“OK but I guess me collecting wild leeks … what some of y’all call ramps … has lasted longer than that festival thing in the beginning which is more for fun than food. Wild leek bulbs will stop being worth digging by the end of this month so I’m getting what I can without taking too much so there will be some to come up next year. I’ve got more sumac drupes than I know what to do with but I’m hoping they’ll help piece out the lemon when all I need is a lemony flavor and not the citric acid in the lemon.” Sawyer nodded but I could tell he was only pretending to understand what I meant to humor me. Next I told him, “Those three trees we didn’t know what they were are apparently something called a quince. I have no idea who planted them but they’ve been there a while. Mr. Baffa’s mother was half English so maybe she did it though I don’t think the trees are quite that old. According to the book I read the trees only live thirty-five years.”
“Hmmm. Story that I’m finally piecing together is that Ol’ Man Baffa used to have a woman living up here with him. Not the one he had a kid with but a different one. Though the way it being told goes she was strange too. Kinda like a hippie. When she left is when Baffa really started acting weird so maybe they did drugs together or something.”
“Ew. TMI Sawyer. It is bad enough to think about most of the family tree being crazy, I don’t want to think about them being addicts too.”
“Everyone’s family tree has some nuts on it. And there isn’t a family around that hasn’t had a few bad un’s in it and they’re lying if they say they don’t. And if you don’t believe me ask Brother Don; he’ll tell some stories on his family that make it sound like some of ‘em are on the long black train straight to hell and racing to see who gets there first. Stop worrying about it. You’ve seen how Uncle Ned is. Lives off in that run down cabin by himself and only comes out every so often if he needs something. And it’s not like he has to either. Gramps and Uncle Forrester have tried for years to get him to be more involved with the family but Uncle Ned is just Uncle Ned. Some of the aunts take turns going up to his place to clean things up two or three times a year but that’s about all he’ll tolerate it.”
“Uncle Ned may be different but he isn’t awful or anything.”
“That’s ‘cause he went sweet on you when he found out how interested you are in all this foraging stuff we’re talking about.”
“Well he was the one that told me those trees were quinces. And he also showed me how to use Autumnberries[1], beautyberries[2], and those red berries off the spice bushes[3][4].”
“Yeah, he did. And the family was surprised that he agreed to stay the night here. Usually they are worrying about him getting home before dark on that crazy road up to his place. I guess I’m not the only one that likes your cooking.”
“Oh you! Stop. He was just being nice.”
“He sure was and you just don’t get how unusual that is,” Sawyer said with a laugh. “But he did say that we need to get the last of the parsnips and burdock dug before they aren’t worth the trouble. Want some help with that?”
[1] http://foragersharvest.com/autumnberry-autumn-olive/
[2] American Beautyberry
[3] http://www.wildmanstevebrill.com/Plants.Folder/Spicebush.html
[4] http://www.gardensinthewood.com/Blog/category/spicebush-berry-recipes/
Chapter Sixty-Nine
“Cocoa powder, brown sugar and powdered sugar I can understand … but lentils? What the devil is a lentil? Is it them shiny little silver balls you decorate Christmas cookies with? I thought those things were called non-parallels or something like that.” Sawyer asked me in a whisper as we passed each other going up and down the aisles.
I had a really hard time not laughing. “Er … no. A lentil is a legume … kinda looks like a flat split pea. You like them.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’ve been eating them.”
“I have?! When?”
“From the time we got married and we went to that big discount store.”
“No way.”
“Well if you wouldn’t eat so fast you don’t get a real good look at what is going in you might have noticed. I swear I don’t know how you even taste anything as quick as it disappears down your throat.”
“I taste things. I just didn’t realize one of the things I tasted was lentils.”
I rolled my eyes and we just kept pushing our buggies going in opposite directions. Sawyer had his part of the list and a buggy and I had the other part of our list with my own buggy. We also had invented cover stories. I was going to use Sawyer’s debit card – we’d put my name on the account earlier – and since it kinda looked like the state EBT card since it was the same color we were hoping that if I ran it myself the cashier wouldn’t take notice. Sawyer was going to use cash and if anyone said anything he was going to say that he “owed his ex and needed to pay up one way or the other or else.” We were going to meet up in the parking lot and scram as fast as we could after that and hope for the best. Maybe we were making things too cloak and dagger but the crowd felt funny and we wanted to be gone with as few nosey questions as possible.
Or maybe it was just that we were doing things so different from our personal normal. We had decided to try something different and I don’t know whether I’m sorry or not. We came to town to shop at the big super store on the night where everyone’s checks hit and the EBT cards get refilled. Our strategy was that our full carts wouldn’t look so out of place than if we did the same thing in the middle of the day.
It was the beginning of October, kinda close to the holidays, but I still hadn’t expected the parking lot to be so full. We had gotten there before midnight and tooled around up and down the aisles picking and choosing things and then closer to midnight we started putting things in the cart. At midnight the store became pure chaos as people seemed to go nuts and if possible the store got even busier.
We stayed away from the meat cases completely. It wasn’t worth getting run over. I didn’t bother with the cold cases where the milk, eggs, or juice were either. I did get several cans of NIDO dried milk and some other things like seasonings and spices that I hadn’t planned on from the ethnic food aisles but that was mostly because they were close out items. I wanted to try that ghee stuff that was already in the jar – fancy name for clarified butter that keeps just about forever – but I wasn’t paying almost $7 for a jar that is only about the same size you would get face cream in. We already get most of our dairy from Toby’s grandfather so I might try making my own[1]. That was one thing that I had learned to make in school.
What I did get were cans of frozen fruit juice concentrate in flavors that we couldn’t grow our own. Lots of orange juice and lemonade and limeade concentrate. I picked up several big bottles of lemon juice to replace what I’d been using in canning. I wanted to get two big cans of olive oil but the price made me ill and it would have looked really strange compared to what was in other people’s buggies. Instead I got some Crisco and less expensive cooking oils. I made a note on my list to see if Burt’s restaurant supply contact could help with that. I had a coupon for a particular brand of olive oil so I at least got that. I had a lot of coupons in fact. I had been collecting them for a while after I discovered the basket of them in the library. People would toss in their leftover and unused coupons and take out ones that they wanted. People went berserk over anything that had to do with baby formula, diapers, or supplies for older people that needed them.
I pushed my buggy over to the aisle that had the dried beans and picked up ten pounds of split peas and the same in dried garbanzo beans resulting in some strange looks but then I noticed that one of the women that had been looking at me the hardest went back and picked up several bags of dried beans as well, just of a different varieties.
I picked up several jars of marshmallow cream which looked really strange until you realized I had a coupon for each container. I almost dropped all of my coupons when someone came up behind me and said, “Newbie?”
“Huh?”
The lady smiled and said, “Power shopper. Bargain hunter. Coupon queen. They call us lots of different names. Last week I bought over a hundred dollars of stuff but only spent a tenth of that at the register. Couponing is a blast. You’ll learn. At least you’ve got a good organizer to hold them. I was a mess when I first started. Here, I’ve reached my limit on toothpaste, take these but the rule is if you don’t use them pass them along to someone else who can before they expire. And don’t worry about the coupons looking a little different, they take them here. And for future reference they also price match so long as you have a flyer from another store with the exact same item.”
She zoomed off leaving me with some coupons that had obviously been printed off the internet but since they were for a dollar off a tube of toothpaste I decided not to waste good fortune and take advantage of them. Other things I had coupons for were Rice-a-roni, Hamburger Helper, cleaning supplies, personal hygiene items, mashed potato flakes in several flavors, canned tuna, Mexican dinner stuff, ramen noodles. Coffee and teas (real and herbal), vitamins, disinfectant spray, and some baby stuff for Delly like baby cereal and diapers.
On Sawyer’s list were more mundane items like bleach, mosquito repellent, bug spray, mice traps, razors and shaving cream for him. He picked up this commercial size bag of miniature chocolate bars and then hit the Halloween candy aisle and had four women tell him he was gonna be super sorry if he let his kids eat all that sugar. He grinned and said, “It was for his cousins’ kids.” One woman then proceeded to tell him, “Then you better make your will out ‘cause someone is gonna kill you.”
I put q-tips and cotton balls in my buggy then threw in a couple of large packages of feminine hygiene items. Sawyer, starting to count pennies, dug through the DVDs and CDs in the clearance bin in the electronic department. I tried to get through the Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations without looking too hard but an “Our First Christmas” ornament still wound up in the buggy even though I’m still not too sure how. I was in the produce section trying to decide whether to get more lemons for preserving or if I had enough when I was bumped rather rudely from behind.
“Oomph.”
I heard a vaguely familiar laugh and turned and shouted, “Taleetha!”
“Girllllll, I was sure you’d be preggars by now but look at you. I guess you didn’t go up on the ridge after all.”
I smiled. “I did. Got married. But it was to a guy who wasn’t ready to be a father even if he is good father material. So did you make it to Brother Johnson’s mission?”
“Yes I did and let me tell you, best place I’ve ever lived. I have to watch all these little ones but it ain’t a bad job. Sister Meredith, Brother Johnson’s wife, is a real lady and we get lessons and everything.”
I looked around but didn’t see anyone with her and asked, “Taleetha you aren’t here by yourself are you? It’s kinda late for you to be out.”
She turned around and beckoned an older woman over. “This here is Sister Darniecia. I asked her to wait until I made sure you were still you.”
“Huh?”
“You know … you color blind. Lot’s o’ white people in town don’t like knowing black people these days.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not color blind I just think people no matter what color they are should have to prove themselves. There’s enough stinkers of every color on the planet that you can’t take anything for granted.”
Taleetha laughed real loud at that and the “Sister” told her to hush, they didn’t need to hear her over in Hightown and that they needed to go if they were going to get everything on the bus and get a seat too. I said goodbye and got the feeling that Sister Darniecia had been uncomfortable. I also got the eye from some other people, both black and white, but ignored them because I wasn’t sure if it was talking to someone out of my race or my lameness that had them staring.
That’s when I saw Sawyer was eyeing me from a register line he was in and I cut back through the produce section, grabbed a second bag of lemons and one of limes, and then got into another line.
**********
We were both tired but wired at the same time. I told Sawyer, “I didn’t get as much as I expected to get. It makes me feel … kinda good I guess … to be able to say we have enough of something and don’t need to buy any more. That leaves more cash for you to spend on things like tractor and truck parts and things for the house.”
“Umph,” he said he answered sounding distracted.
“What about you?” I asked trying to find out what he was thinking about.
“Who was that?”
“Huh?” I said since him answering me with a question of his own hadn’t been what I expected.
“Who was that you were talking to?”
“Which time? The coupon lady or my foster sister at the last house I stayed out?”
“She wasn’t no sister of yours.”
“So you mean Taleetha? Like I said she was my foster sister. We lived together at the Brensers. She was there before I was and kinda walked me through the do’s and don’ts they had.”
Sawyer was silent so I added. “Don’t worry. I kept my mouth shut and didn’t tell family business. I just said that I was married and that no I wasn’t pregnant.”
“What?!” he yelped.
“You do remember what the gossip was with all of you Hartford men started hunting around for females don’t you?”
“Uh …”
“Yep. And people still talk, just not as much because most of you that are marriageable have already done it.”
“Uh …”
“And no, she may have been my foster sister and a fairly good one as such things go, I didn’t invite her to the house or anything like that so you can stop worrying about whatever it is that you are worrying about. Like I said, I didn’t tell family business.”
He sighed. “Kay-Lee I didn’t mean …”
“Yes you did. But I’ve known how you felt about that kind of stuff almost since the beginning when you all freaked out about going downtown.”
“Downtown, Uptown, doesn’t matter. No one has any business knowing our business.”
“Except this isn’t what that is about. At least be honest about it with me.”
“Now you are putting words in my mouth.”
“No I’m not. I’m waiting for you to use words out of your mouth.”
“Are you looking for a fight on purpose?”
“Not that I’m aware of but if you are going to treat me like a half-wit or a criminal because I said hello to someone that cared about me …”
Sawyer was quiet for a while and then said, “Kay-Lee I wasn’t treating you like that and if you think I was … well I wasn’t. I’ve got reasons to feel the way I feel, good reasons. Maybe I shouldn’t have assumed … what I assumed when you were talking to … that girl.”
I sighed. “And maybe I shouldn’t get so defensive. Let’s just call it even and let it go. Please.”
We were both quiet the rest of the way home. I got out of the truck and walked around to the back and then got spooked as Sawyer came up behind me. “You got out of the truck too fast. You know I like to get your door.”
“I guess I was thinking. And the shoe you made me makes it so much easier to get in and out now … maybe I was showing off to myself to prove … I don’t know …”
“Look Kay-Lee, I’m sorry.”
“Huh? No … no that’s not … Sawyer when I said I was sorry for being defensive I meant it. I know you don’t just go off half-cocked about things and I’m also pretty sure some of why you feel the way you do is because of when you had to watch your back so much in prison.”
“Uh …”
“Sawyer I’m not going to ask you to talk about it. If you want to you will and if you don’t I need to respect that. It’s just that … look, you were so busy staring at Taleetha and me that you must have missed that others were doing the same thing. I missed it for that matter, and Taleetha really missed it – though she has more reason than I do; Taleetha’s boundaries are almost nonexistent and she’s a lot closer to being like Linda and Tommy than she’d ever admit or even understand. Anyway, it was when that woman with her got her back on track and away that I realized we’d made a bit of a spectacle and that not everyone thought good things about it. Then when you said something … I just …” I stopped and shook my head. “Why can’t people just be measured by what they do or don’t do as individuals instead of stuff they can’t help like how they’re born or the color of their skin or if they have crappy bio families?”
“I don’t know,” Sawyer said in a voice that told me he was trying to be understanding for my sake. “But … thanks for not spreading family business. I didn’t think you would and I’m sorry if you thought I did. But thanks for … you know … being someone I can count on.”
I’m still not sure how to take how he feels but he’s right, he does have reason for feeling like he feels. I guess growing up like I have – being so different from everyone, I never had a group I got to belong to – that I see all of that us and them stuff in a different way. If I had thought about “us” only being about people that looked like me then my “us” would have been a very lonely person.
[1] http://healthylivinghowto.com/1/post/2011/12/ghee-whiz.html
“Cocoa powder, brown sugar and powdered sugar I can understand … but lentils? What the devil is a lentil? Is it them shiny little silver balls you decorate Christmas cookies with? I thought those things were called non-parallels or something like that.” Sawyer asked me in a whisper as we passed each other going up and down the aisles.
I had a really hard time not laughing. “Er … no. A lentil is a legume … kinda looks like a flat split pea. You like them.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’ve been eating them.”
“I have?! When?”
“From the time we got married and we went to that big discount store.”
“No way.”
“Well if you wouldn’t eat so fast you don’t get a real good look at what is going in you might have noticed. I swear I don’t know how you even taste anything as quick as it disappears down your throat.”
“I taste things. I just didn’t realize one of the things I tasted was lentils.”
I rolled my eyes and we just kept pushing our buggies going in opposite directions. Sawyer had his part of the list and a buggy and I had the other part of our list with my own buggy. We also had invented cover stories. I was going to use Sawyer’s debit card – we’d put my name on the account earlier – and since it kinda looked like the state EBT card since it was the same color we were hoping that if I ran it myself the cashier wouldn’t take notice. Sawyer was going to use cash and if anyone said anything he was going to say that he “owed his ex and needed to pay up one way or the other or else.” We were going to meet up in the parking lot and scram as fast as we could after that and hope for the best. Maybe we were making things too cloak and dagger but the crowd felt funny and we wanted to be gone with as few nosey questions as possible.
Or maybe it was just that we were doing things so different from our personal normal. We had decided to try something different and I don’t know whether I’m sorry or not. We came to town to shop at the big super store on the night where everyone’s checks hit and the EBT cards get refilled. Our strategy was that our full carts wouldn’t look so out of place than if we did the same thing in the middle of the day.
It was the beginning of October, kinda close to the holidays, but I still hadn’t expected the parking lot to be so full. We had gotten there before midnight and tooled around up and down the aisles picking and choosing things and then closer to midnight we started putting things in the cart. At midnight the store became pure chaos as people seemed to go nuts and if possible the store got even busier.
We stayed away from the meat cases completely. It wasn’t worth getting run over. I didn’t bother with the cold cases where the milk, eggs, or juice were either. I did get several cans of NIDO dried milk and some other things like seasonings and spices that I hadn’t planned on from the ethnic food aisles but that was mostly because they were close out items. I wanted to try that ghee stuff that was already in the jar – fancy name for clarified butter that keeps just about forever – but I wasn’t paying almost $7 for a jar that is only about the same size you would get face cream in. We already get most of our dairy from Toby’s grandfather so I might try making my own[1]. That was one thing that I had learned to make in school.
What I did get were cans of frozen fruit juice concentrate in flavors that we couldn’t grow our own. Lots of orange juice and lemonade and limeade concentrate. I picked up several big bottles of lemon juice to replace what I’d been using in canning. I wanted to get two big cans of olive oil but the price made me ill and it would have looked really strange compared to what was in other people’s buggies. Instead I got some Crisco and less expensive cooking oils. I made a note on my list to see if Burt’s restaurant supply contact could help with that. I had a coupon for a particular brand of olive oil so I at least got that. I had a lot of coupons in fact. I had been collecting them for a while after I discovered the basket of them in the library. People would toss in their leftover and unused coupons and take out ones that they wanted. People went berserk over anything that had to do with baby formula, diapers, or supplies for older people that needed them.
I pushed my buggy over to the aisle that had the dried beans and picked up ten pounds of split peas and the same in dried garbanzo beans resulting in some strange looks but then I noticed that one of the women that had been looking at me the hardest went back and picked up several bags of dried beans as well, just of a different varieties.
I picked up several jars of marshmallow cream which looked really strange until you realized I had a coupon for each container. I almost dropped all of my coupons when someone came up behind me and said, “Newbie?”
“Huh?”
The lady smiled and said, “Power shopper. Bargain hunter. Coupon queen. They call us lots of different names. Last week I bought over a hundred dollars of stuff but only spent a tenth of that at the register. Couponing is a blast. You’ll learn. At least you’ve got a good organizer to hold them. I was a mess when I first started. Here, I’ve reached my limit on toothpaste, take these but the rule is if you don’t use them pass them along to someone else who can before they expire. And don’t worry about the coupons looking a little different, they take them here. And for future reference they also price match so long as you have a flyer from another store with the exact same item.”
She zoomed off leaving me with some coupons that had obviously been printed off the internet but since they were for a dollar off a tube of toothpaste I decided not to waste good fortune and take advantage of them. Other things I had coupons for were Rice-a-roni, Hamburger Helper, cleaning supplies, personal hygiene items, mashed potato flakes in several flavors, canned tuna, Mexican dinner stuff, ramen noodles. Coffee and teas (real and herbal), vitamins, disinfectant spray, and some baby stuff for Delly like baby cereal and diapers.
On Sawyer’s list were more mundane items like bleach, mosquito repellent, bug spray, mice traps, razors and shaving cream for him. He picked up this commercial size bag of miniature chocolate bars and then hit the Halloween candy aisle and had four women tell him he was gonna be super sorry if he let his kids eat all that sugar. He grinned and said, “It was for his cousins’ kids.” One woman then proceeded to tell him, “Then you better make your will out ‘cause someone is gonna kill you.”
I put q-tips and cotton balls in my buggy then threw in a couple of large packages of feminine hygiene items. Sawyer, starting to count pennies, dug through the DVDs and CDs in the clearance bin in the electronic department. I tried to get through the Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations without looking too hard but an “Our First Christmas” ornament still wound up in the buggy even though I’m still not too sure how. I was in the produce section trying to decide whether to get more lemons for preserving or if I had enough when I was bumped rather rudely from behind.
“Oomph.”
I heard a vaguely familiar laugh and turned and shouted, “Taleetha!”
“Girllllll, I was sure you’d be preggars by now but look at you. I guess you didn’t go up on the ridge after all.”
I smiled. “I did. Got married. But it was to a guy who wasn’t ready to be a father even if he is good father material. So did you make it to Brother Johnson’s mission?”
“Yes I did and let me tell you, best place I’ve ever lived. I have to watch all these little ones but it ain’t a bad job. Sister Meredith, Brother Johnson’s wife, is a real lady and we get lessons and everything.”
I looked around but didn’t see anyone with her and asked, “Taleetha you aren’t here by yourself are you? It’s kinda late for you to be out.”
She turned around and beckoned an older woman over. “This here is Sister Darniecia. I asked her to wait until I made sure you were still you.”
“Huh?”
“You know … you color blind. Lot’s o’ white people in town don’t like knowing black people these days.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not color blind I just think people no matter what color they are should have to prove themselves. There’s enough stinkers of every color on the planet that you can’t take anything for granted.”
Taleetha laughed real loud at that and the “Sister” told her to hush, they didn’t need to hear her over in Hightown and that they needed to go if they were going to get everything on the bus and get a seat too. I said goodbye and got the feeling that Sister Darniecia had been uncomfortable. I also got the eye from some other people, both black and white, but ignored them because I wasn’t sure if it was talking to someone out of my race or my lameness that had them staring.
That’s when I saw Sawyer was eyeing me from a register line he was in and I cut back through the produce section, grabbed a second bag of lemons and one of limes, and then got into another line.
**********
We were both tired but wired at the same time. I told Sawyer, “I didn’t get as much as I expected to get. It makes me feel … kinda good I guess … to be able to say we have enough of something and don’t need to buy any more. That leaves more cash for you to spend on things like tractor and truck parts and things for the house.”
“Umph,” he said he answered sounding distracted.
“What about you?” I asked trying to find out what he was thinking about.
“Who was that?”
“Huh?” I said since him answering me with a question of his own hadn’t been what I expected.
“Who was that you were talking to?”
“Which time? The coupon lady or my foster sister at the last house I stayed out?”
“She wasn’t no sister of yours.”
“So you mean Taleetha? Like I said she was my foster sister. We lived together at the Brensers. She was there before I was and kinda walked me through the do’s and don’ts they had.”
Sawyer was silent so I added. “Don’t worry. I kept my mouth shut and didn’t tell family business. I just said that I was married and that no I wasn’t pregnant.”
“What?!” he yelped.
“You do remember what the gossip was with all of you Hartford men started hunting around for females don’t you?”
“Uh …”
“Yep. And people still talk, just not as much because most of you that are marriageable have already done it.”
“Uh …”
“And no, she may have been my foster sister and a fairly good one as such things go, I didn’t invite her to the house or anything like that so you can stop worrying about whatever it is that you are worrying about. Like I said, I didn’t tell family business.”
He sighed. “Kay-Lee I didn’t mean …”
“Yes you did. But I’ve known how you felt about that kind of stuff almost since the beginning when you all freaked out about going downtown.”
“Downtown, Uptown, doesn’t matter. No one has any business knowing our business.”
“Except this isn’t what that is about. At least be honest about it with me.”
“Now you are putting words in my mouth.”
“No I’m not. I’m waiting for you to use words out of your mouth.”
“Are you looking for a fight on purpose?”
“Not that I’m aware of but if you are going to treat me like a half-wit or a criminal because I said hello to someone that cared about me …”
Sawyer was quiet for a while and then said, “Kay-Lee I wasn’t treating you like that and if you think I was … well I wasn’t. I’ve got reasons to feel the way I feel, good reasons. Maybe I shouldn’t have assumed … what I assumed when you were talking to … that girl.”
I sighed. “And maybe I shouldn’t get so defensive. Let’s just call it even and let it go. Please.”
We were both quiet the rest of the way home. I got out of the truck and walked around to the back and then got spooked as Sawyer came up behind me. “You got out of the truck too fast. You know I like to get your door.”
“I guess I was thinking. And the shoe you made me makes it so much easier to get in and out now … maybe I was showing off to myself to prove … I don’t know …”
“Look Kay-Lee, I’m sorry.”
“Huh? No … no that’s not … Sawyer when I said I was sorry for being defensive I meant it. I know you don’t just go off half-cocked about things and I’m also pretty sure some of why you feel the way you do is because of when you had to watch your back so much in prison.”
“Uh …”
“Sawyer I’m not going to ask you to talk about it. If you want to you will and if you don’t I need to respect that. It’s just that … look, you were so busy staring at Taleetha and me that you must have missed that others were doing the same thing. I missed it for that matter, and Taleetha really missed it – though she has more reason than I do; Taleetha’s boundaries are almost nonexistent and she’s a lot closer to being like Linda and Tommy than she’d ever admit or even understand. Anyway, it was when that woman with her got her back on track and away that I realized we’d made a bit of a spectacle and that not everyone thought good things about it. Then when you said something … I just …” I stopped and shook my head. “Why can’t people just be measured by what they do or don’t do as individuals instead of stuff they can’t help like how they’re born or the color of their skin or if they have crappy bio families?”
“I don’t know,” Sawyer said in a voice that told me he was trying to be understanding for my sake. “But … thanks for not spreading family business. I didn’t think you would and I’m sorry if you thought I did. But thanks for … you know … being someone I can count on.”
I’m still not sure how to take how he feels but he’s right, he does have reason for feeling like he feels. I guess growing up like I have – being so different from everyone, I never had a group I got to belong to – that I see all of that us and them stuff in a different way. If I had thought about “us” only being about people that looked like me then my “us” would have been a very lonely person.
[1] http://healthylivinghowto.com/1/post/2011/12/ghee-whiz.html
Chapter Seventy
“Ouch! Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!! Doggone it that smarts!”
The screen door to the back porch banged open. “Kay-Lee?!”
I blanched. “Oh Sawyer, what are you doing home in the middle …”
“Where the hell have you been?! Come home for lunch. You’re not home. Can’t get you on the cell. Just what the hell?!”
Irritated already and not needing Sawyer to go all overprotective and upset I told him, “Sawyer just take this stupid bucket. I banged it against my brace again and I think it bruised this time.”
“This time?! My gawd … I’ve been thinking all kinds of thoughts and …”
“Sawyer … take the bucket before I throw it.”
“Er … “ He took the bucket and his face cleared as soon as he saw what was in it. “C’mere, let me look. Yeah, you pinched yourself good this time. You’re going to have to let me …”
“No. I am not going to spend money to fix something that isn’t broken. I just need to find a way to …”
“Kay-Lee …”
“Sawyer …”
From the screen door came the words, “Thank gawd. I was beginning to get sick of the perfect couple routine.”
“Cindy?!” I squawked stopping my snit with more effort than I really felt like expending.
“Yeah. And Davis is in here too. We’re hiding out so don’t blab.”
I looked at Sawyer who was caught between trying to stay grumpy at my unexpected absence and some kind of hilarity at his cousin’s expense. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret asking but why are y’all hiding out over here?”
Davis’ voice carried outside to tell me, “Because it is probably the only place Dad won’t think to look.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way Davis but the last person I really want to get on the bad side of is your Dad.”
Sawyer lost the battle and started snickering and then laughing. I asked, “OK, what’s up?”
Cindy marched out onto the porch and snapped, “Twins. Twins! And twin girls at that. Apparently I am only supposed to have boys but oh no … it’s girls … and it’s two of them. The doc says identical. Mono something or other. Davis’ dad wants me to get a second opinion. Like I’m a car or something that might be able to change out some parts on warranty.”
“I still don’t get it,” I said. “Sawyer stop laughing and explain why this is supposed to be funny. There’s always a 50% chance whether you have a girl or a boy or did you really think your uber weird generation of nothing but boys except Delly was actually normal.”
Cindy yelled, “Yes! Finally. Someone gets it.” To me she said, “They are driving me nuts. And Jeannie has absolutely refused to find out what flavor she and Benedict are having. Delly isn’t saying though with all the pink stuff she’s been buying it’s pretty obvious, but it kinda doesn’t count because technically she isn’t a Hartford anymore. And Beth and Docia admitted they were pregnant last night but because of how Davis’ father is acting they now say they aren’t going to let anyone know what flavor they are having either. Oh no, I’m the only one that gets stuck putting up with this … this … this stuff!”
I shrugged. “Well here’s Uncle Mark’s chance to prove he isn’t a misogynist.”
Davis yelped, “A what?!”
I smiled. “Someone that is basically a male chauvinist pig on steroids. Besides I bet he is just worried.”
“About what?”
Rolling my eyes at Davis’ obtuseness I explained to him, “Same thing you should be worried about Davis and every other male Hartford that has ever lived. Paybacks.”
“Paybacks for what?”
“For being what you are. Big stinkers. Now just imagine what you’re going to have to put up with when your daughters get to the age the boys start noticing them. And see you already know all the kinds of stuff boys can get up to. I mean … just imagine. Only this time it’s you who are the father.”
Davis who had come to stand in the doorway got a blank look on his face that slowly turned to horror then terror. “Oh my gawd. I … I gotta … c’mon Cindy. We gotta go talk to Dad.”
“About what? I thought you said …”
“I know what I said but now I’ve changed my mind. I … I mean we … us … shotguns and rifles and … and things … and … and oh @#$%. And there’s … there’s two of ‘em. C’mon!”
By the time Davis got Cindy loaded in his truck and started driving erratically down the road Sawyer was laughing so hard he almost fell off the porch.
I asked him, “Are you through yet? ‘Cause when you are and if you don’t have to leave again for a couple of hours, I need you to drive me and the tractor back to where I left my other buckets and baskets before the squirrels get them all.”
**********
I’d estimated a couple of hours just right. We were gone and back and it was almost time to get the rest of supper finished. “Hang on Kay-Lee. I’ll come around and get you down, don’t jump out of the wagon.”
“I hadn’t planned on it,” I told Sawyer tiredly.
“Leave those buckets. I’ll carry them into the house in a minute. You’re limping worse. You sure it is just a bruise?”
“No. I think I strained something so no fair chasing me. It was stupid, and I admit it. So lectures are out too.”
“Well dang, and here I was looking forward to giving you a good lecture all day,” Sawyer said shaking his head sadly. Then he swooped and picked me up causing me to squawk like one of the chickens.
“Sawyer!”
“I love it when you say my name like that.”
“Oh you’re in a crazy mood, that’s for sure.”
“Yep. Crazy relief that we don’t have to worry about you being pregnant right now.”
“Well that’s what we already agreed to. But since Cindy and some of the others obviously didn’t get that particular memo and you usually aren’t like this so what else has got you so wound up?”
“Just relief.” More seriously he added, “There was trouble at the chip factory this morning.”
I pushed until he set me down. Warily I asked, “What kind of trouble?”
“Turns out a manager over there was siphoning money and when they caught it, they shut the factory down without notice. It was supposed to only be until they got through all of the paperwork on site, but they didn’t tell the workers that and … basically they rioted. Then one or more of the idiots went too far and started a fire that caught on the oil they fry the potatoes in. They got it put out pretty quick, but it is still bad. Factory sustained a lot of damage and now instead of a day or two it may be weeks or longer before the place reopens and since they aren’t going to lay off anyone no one can get unemployment in the meantime. That’s several hundred people out of work between one thing and another all of a sudden. There’s already been some reports that the unemployment office is taking some hits too … rocks through windows, petty crap like that.”
“That’s awful. I was in town for the other riots and it was just plain scary. Has anyone been hurt yet?”
“Some, mostly the kind of injuries you get in a brawl, but nothing major has been reported yet … or it hasn’t made it to the radio. They’ve blacked it out on the tv so I hear, and are only reporting on it from off-site. Gramps thinks it is going to calm down for a few days, a week at most, and then if it is going to go off it will go off then about like a Roman candle.”
“I … I’m sorry Sawyer. I just didn’t know and didn’t think … I mean … I thought I was doing a good thing being out foraging.”
“Hey,” he said giving me a kiss. “I should have called earlier when I first found out instead of waiting and then running into you having gone out of signal range. Burt called me when Delly called him and told him to turn on the TV in the office. Scared the crap out of me, I thought something had happened to her the way he sounded.”
“Is she ok? She’s been kinda … emotional.”
“Yeah. I talked to her and right now she sounds better than Burt does. He took delivery of that stuff yesterday you and him figured up and wanted it out of the warehouse soonest. He’s locked the place down, pulled the shutters down, and is going to stay home for the next week doing things at the house he’s been putting off.”
“Someone needs to keep an eye on Rissa. She’s … uh …”
Sawyer snorted. “She sure is. Fighting this tooth and nail and majorly hacked off in general. I don’t think she’ll buck Burt too much though because he took away her plastic, her computer and phone, and said she’d have to earn back her driving lessons and electronics through hard labor and a better attitude than she has been displaying.”
“Holy cow. Last I saw Burt let her run free with very few restraints.”
“Not quite that bad but close enough. It ain’t like that now though.”
“What about Mrs. Penny and Mrs. Carmichael?”
“Right now that is Burt’s responsibility and I’m not going to get mixed up in it and tell him his business one way or the other. Instead, how about you tell me what all you found today.”
Relieved he wasn’t hacked off like he had been when I first trudged home I said, “Oh Sawyer, you’ll be so proud!”
“Already am and don’t see how I could get much prouder. But I’ll give it a try.”
“Don’t be silly,” I told him with a grin and a kiss, nevertheless pleased that he had taken notice of my efforts.
“Well you saw all of those black walnuts and that’s on top of all of those pecans we managed to save from the squirrels. But guess what is in the cooler by the door?”
“What?”
“Cranberries.”
“Cra … huh? We’ve got a cranberry bog on the farm?!”
“Not those kinds of cranberries. Highbush cranberries. I don’t know … maybe you call them lingonberries. The book I was looking at says they are called that too.”
“Hmmm … bright red, collapse your face in sour tasting berries?”
“Yep, that’s them. The thing is they aren’t supposed to grow here, not naturally. I think this is another one of those ‘cultivations’ that Mr. Baffa wrote about the family doing that maybe never took off.”
“Hmph. Maybe. Though if he said they didn’t take off are you sure that’s what they are? I love all these foraging adventures you have but … just like the mushrooms … you gotta be careful.”
“I know that’s what these are. There was even this little metal plate or marker thing tied to this rusty metal post beside them. And there is a concrete bench there too beside what looks to me like an overgrown trail of some kind. I looked it up a couple of months ago to see what they were. But I didn’t figure anything would ever come of it but … oh my gosh Sawyer, there’s something else too. The pond! Oh I wished we would have had time to go over there.”
“Well you’re excited,” he said with a grin. “What did you find? Gold?”
“Just about. Wild rice! Half the run off pond looks like it is filled with wild rice!”
“Yo, easy on my ears,” he laughed. “If it gets you that happy I’ll try and swing by there tomorrow while Tommy, Uncle James, and I are out hunting.”
“And don’t you dare laugh.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“Sawyer,” I told him warningly which only made him grin. “Oh fine … but did you know that you can eat ramp bulbs just like garlic? I thought you had to cook them but apparently you don’t.”
He shook his head at how fast I was jumping from subject to subject. “Sure do … and it will give you a belly ache if you eat too many but I assume that is what that stink is coming from in the other cooler.”
“It doesn’t stink. It smells delicious. I just wish I had figured this out earlier. I could have chopped some up and put it in sauces and stuff to test it out.”
“Says the woman that thinks garlic and onions are a food group all to themselves.” He laughed at the tongue I stuck out in his directions. “I also recognize cattails, sheep sorrel, sumac, parsnips, and burdock roots. Did I get them right?”
I giggled. “Yep. Guess you are getting used to my experiments.”
“I’m getting fat off your experiments,” he said giving me a hug. “I tell you what though, finding that downed black locust tree was a real stroke of luck. It makes some fantastic firewood for long cold nights. Burns a long time which means I won’t have to get up and feed the fire so much. I’m going to start on it day after tomorrow if things don’t change and the tree has been down at least a year so we’ll even be able to use it straight away. But let’s save it for the bedroom fire.”
“Sounds good to me. Want a Sheep Pie to go with your supper of apple glazed doves?”
“Is that the pie that tastes like a lemon tart?”
“Yep.”
“Bring it on Woman. I still can’t believe you caught those doves with a fishing net.”
“Burt Jr. gave me the idea. You know he’s a good kid. He reminds me … well don’t take this the wrong way … but I think he reminds me of what Tommy could have been at that age if there hadn’t been the accident.”
“You aren’t hurting anything by saying it. Even Uncle James has remarked on how similar they are in some things. And you won’t even hurt Burt’s feelings if he hears you say it because the first time he heard someone mention it he said that Tommy certainly wasn’t the worst person that Burt Jr. could grow up and be similar to. Frankly I think he hopes that he has some of Tommy’s construction talent. Burt is smart and does a lot of things well … but working with a hammer and nails isn’t one that comes natural to him. I expect he’ll have something bandaged up before the week is over if Delly doesn’t give me a ring to come over and help.”
Remembering all the times I’ve seen Burt with Band-Aids on his fingers I nodded and said, “They must keep the drug store in the green.”
Sawyer thought that was funny and laughed all the way back over to the wagon to start moving my buckets and coolers into the kitchen so I could deal with what I’d foraged.
In addition to the stuff that Sawyer had named I had chestnuts[1] and pecans to go with the black walnuts. I had found several almond trees along one of the trails and finally figured out what they were and brought a few back to test to see if they were ready to be harvested. I brought back some sunchokes[2] also but not as many as I had expected. Sawyer – and I wasn’t going to tell him this because he would feel bad – he had mowed over several patches that I had planned on digging up. I had tied them off with yarn but I guess he hadn’t seen it from the tractor seat. I found another whole fence row of muscandines out in the middle of nowhere for no reason that would need to be harvested as soon as I could get some help to do it. And right as I think I’ve found the last grove of fruit trees that I would need to keep track of for harvesting next year I found several rows of persimmon[3] trees that were pretty close to harvesting.
Sawyer may have been joking about finding gold but honestly, for the first time I feel rich. I mean really rich. It isn’t just the house and farm. It is all the stuff that the farm keeps revealing. Most of all I feel rich for having someone to share this all with. Sawyer. I never thought life could be like this. Not outside of a storybook. Not for me.
[1] http://www.chestnutgrowersinc.com/recipes.shtml
[2] The Spruce Eats - Make Your Best Meal
[3] Persimmon - Recipes | Cooks.com
“Ouch! Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!! Doggone it that smarts!”
The screen door to the back porch banged open. “Kay-Lee?!”
I blanched. “Oh Sawyer, what are you doing home in the middle …”
“Where the hell have you been?! Come home for lunch. You’re not home. Can’t get you on the cell. Just what the hell?!”
Irritated already and not needing Sawyer to go all overprotective and upset I told him, “Sawyer just take this stupid bucket. I banged it against my brace again and I think it bruised this time.”
“This time?! My gawd … I’ve been thinking all kinds of thoughts and …”
“Sawyer … take the bucket before I throw it.”
“Er … “ He took the bucket and his face cleared as soon as he saw what was in it. “C’mere, let me look. Yeah, you pinched yourself good this time. You’re going to have to let me …”
“No. I am not going to spend money to fix something that isn’t broken. I just need to find a way to …”
“Kay-Lee …”
“Sawyer …”
From the screen door came the words, “Thank gawd. I was beginning to get sick of the perfect couple routine.”
“Cindy?!” I squawked stopping my snit with more effort than I really felt like expending.
“Yeah. And Davis is in here too. We’re hiding out so don’t blab.”
I looked at Sawyer who was caught between trying to stay grumpy at my unexpected absence and some kind of hilarity at his cousin’s expense. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret asking but why are y’all hiding out over here?”
Davis’ voice carried outside to tell me, “Because it is probably the only place Dad won’t think to look.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way Davis but the last person I really want to get on the bad side of is your Dad.”
Sawyer lost the battle and started snickering and then laughing. I asked, “OK, what’s up?”
Cindy marched out onto the porch and snapped, “Twins. Twins! And twin girls at that. Apparently I am only supposed to have boys but oh no … it’s girls … and it’s two of them. The doc says identical. Mono something or other. Davis’ dad wants me to get a second opinion. Like I’m a car or something that might be able to change out some parts on warranty.”
“I still don’t get it,” I said. “Sawyer stop laughing and explain why this is supposed to be funny. There’s always a 50% chance whether you have a girl or a boy or did you really think your uber weird generation of nothing but boys except Delly was actually normal.”
Cindy yelled, “Yes! Finally. Someone gets it.” To me she said, “They are driving me nuts. And Jeannie has absolutely refused to find out what flavor she and Benedict are having. Delly isn’t saying though with all the pink stuff she’s been buying it’s pretty obvious, but it kinda doesn’t count because technically she isn’t a Hartford anymore. And Beth and Docia admitted they were pregnant last night but because of how Davis’ father is acting they now say they aren’t going to let anyone know what flavor they are having either. Oh no, I’m the only one that gets stuck putting up with this … this … this stuff!”
I shrugged. “Well here’s Uncle Mark’s chance to prove he isn’t a misogynist.”
Davis yelped, “A what?!”
I smiled. “Someone that is basically a male chauvinist pig on steroids. Besides I bet he is just worried.”
“About what?”
Rolling my eyes at Davis’ obtuseness I explained to him, “Same thing you should be worried about Davis and every other male Hartford that has ever lived. Paybacks.”
“Paybacks for what?”
“For being what you are. Big stinkers. Now just imagine what you’re going to have to put up with when your daughters get to the age the boys start noticing them. And see you already know all the kinds of stuff boys can get up to. I mean … just imagine. Only this time it’s you who are the father.”
Davis who had come to stand in the doorway got a blank look on his face that slowly turned to horror then terror. “Oh my gawd. I … I gotta … c’mon Cindy. We gotta go talk to Dad.”
“About what? I thought you said …”
“I know what I said but now I’ve changed my mind. I … I mean we … us … shotguns and rifles and … and things … and … and oh @#$%. And there’s … there’s two of ‘em. C’mon!”
By the time Davis got Cindy loaded in his truck and started driving erratically down the road Sawyer was laughing so hard he almost fell off the porch.
I asked him, “Are you through yet? ‘Cause when you are and if you don’t have to leave again for a couple of hours, I need you to drive me and the tractor back to where I left my other buckets and baskets before the squirrels get them all.”
**********
I’d estimated a couple of hours just right. We were gone and back and it was almost time to get the rest of supper finished. “Hang on Kay-Lee. I’ll come around and get you down, don’t jump out of the wagon.”
“I hadn’t planned on it,” I told Sawyer tiredly.
“Leave those buckets. I’ll carry them into the house in a minute. You’re limping worse. You sure it is just a bruise?”
“No. I think I strained something so no fair chasing me. It was stupid, and I admit it. So lectures are out too.”
“Well dang, and here I was looking forward to giving you a good lecture all day,” Sawyer said shaking his head sadly. Then he swooped and picked me up causing me to squawk like one of the chickens.
“Sawyer!”
“I love it when you say my name like that.”
“Oh you’re in a crazy mood, that’s for sure.”
“Yep. Crazy relief that we don’t have to worry about you being pregnant right now.”
“Well that’s what we already agreed to. But since Cindy and some of the others obviously didn’t get that particular memo and you usually aren’t like this so what else has got you so wound up?”
“Just relief.” More seriously he added, “There was trouble at the chip factory this morning.”
I pushed until he set me down. Warily I asked, “What kind of trouble?”
“Turns out a manager over there was siphoning money and when they caught it, they shut the factory down without notice. It was supposed to only be until they got through all of the paperwork on site, but they didn’t tell the workers that and … basically they rioted. Then one or more of the idiots went too far and started a fire that caught on the oil they fry the potatoes in. They got it put out pretty quick, but it is still bad. Factory sustained a lot of damage and now instead of a day or two it may be weeks or longer before the place reopens and since they aren’t going to lay off anyone no one can get unemployment in the meantime. That’s several hundred people out of work between one thing and another all of a sudden. There’s already been some reports that the unemployment office is taking some hits too … rocks through windows, petty crap like that.”
“That’s awful. I was in town for the other riots and it was just plain scary. Has anyone been hurt yet?”
“Some, mostly the kind of injuries you get in a brawl, but nothing major has been reported yet … or it hasn’t made it to the radio. They’ve blacked it out on the tv so I hear, and are only reporting on it from off-site. Gramps thinks it is going to calm down for a few days, a week at most, and then if it is going to go off it will go off then about like a Roman candle.”
“I … I’m sorry Sawyer. I just didn’t know and didn’t think … I mean … I thought I was doing a good thing being out foraging.”
“Hey,” he said giving me a kiss. “I should have called earlier when I first found out instead of waiting and then running into you having gone out of signal range. Burt called me when Delly called him and told him to turn on the TV in the office. Scared the crap out of me, I thought something had happened to her the way he sounded.”
“Is she ok? She’s been kinda … emotional.”
“Yeah. I talked to her and right now she sounds better than Burt does. He took delivery of that stuff yesterday you and him figured up and wanted it out of the warehouse soonest. He’s locked the place down, pulled the shutters down, and is going to stay home for the next week doing things at the house he’s been putting off.”
“Someone needs to keep an eye on Rissa. She’s … uh …”
Sawyer snorted. “She sure is. Fighting this tooth and nail and majorly hacked off in general. I don’t think she’ll buck Burt too much though because he took away her plastic, her computer and phone, and said she’d have to earn back her driving lessons and electronics through hard labor and a better attitude than she has been displaying.”
“Holy cow. Last I saw Burt let her run free with very few restraints.”
“Not quite that bad but close enough. It ain’t like that now though.”
“What about Mrs. Penny and Mrs. Carmichael?”
“Right now that is Burt’s responsibility and I’m not going to get mixed up in it and tell him his business one way or the other. Instead, how about you tell me what all you found today.”
Relieved he wasn’t hacked off like he had been when I first trudged home I said, “Oh Sawyer, you’ll be so proud!”
“Already am and don’t see how I could get much prouder. But I’ll give it a try.”
“Don’t be silly,” I told him with a grin and a kiss, nevertheless pleased that he had taken notice of my efforts.
“Well you saw all of those black walnuts and that’s on top of all of those pecans we managed to save from the squirrels. But guess what is in the cooler by the door?”
“What?”
“Cranberries.”
“Cra … huh? We’ve got a cranberry bog on the farm?!”
“Not those kinds of cranberries. Highbush cranberries. I don’t know … maybe you call them lingonberries. The book I was looking at says they are called that too.”
“Hmmm … bright red, collapse your face in sour tasting berries?”
“Yep, that’s them. The thing is they aren’t supposed to grow here, not naturally. I think this is another one of those ‘cultivations’ that Mr. Baffa wrote about the family doing that maybe never took off.”
“Hmph. Maybe. Though if he said they didn’t take off are you sure that’s what they are? I love all these foraging adventures you have but … just like the mushrooms … you gotta be careful.”
“I know that’s what these are. There was even this little metal plate or marker thing tied to this rusty metal post beside them. And there is a concrete bench there too beside what looks to me like an overgrown trail of some kind. I looked it up a couple of months ago to see what they were. But I didn’t figure anything would ever come of it but … oh my gosh Sawyer, there’s something else too. The pond! Oh I wished we would have had time to go over there.”
“Well you’re excited,” he said with a grin. “What did you find? Gold?”
“Just about. Wild rice! Half the run off pond looks like it is filled with wild rice!”
“Yo, easy on my ears,” he laughed. “If it gets you that happy I’ll try and swing by there tomorrow while Tommy, Uncle James, and I are out hunting.”
“And don’t you dare laugh.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“Sawyer,” I told him warningly which only made him grin. “Oh fine … but did you know that you can eat ramp bulbs just like garlic? I thought you had to cook them but apparently you don’t.”
He shook his head at how fast I was jumping from subject to subject. “Sure do … and it will give you a belly ache if you eat too many but I assume that is what that stink is coming from in the other cooler.”
“It doesn’t stink. It smells delicious. I just wish I had figured this out earlier. I could have chopped some up and put it in sauces and stuff to test it out.”
“Says the woman that thinks garlic and onions are a food group all to themselves.” He laughed at the tongue I stuck out in his directions. “I also recognize cattails, sheep sorrel, sumac, parsnips, and burdock roots. Did I get them right?”
I giggled. “Yep. Guess you are getting used to my experiments.”
“I’m getting fat off your experiments,” he said giving me a hug. “I tell you what though, finding that downed black locust tree was a real stroke of luck. It makes some fantastic firewood for long cold nights. Burns a long time which means I won’t have to get up and feed the fire so much. I’m going to start on it day after tomorrow if things don’t change and the tree has been down at least a year so we’ll even be able to use it straight away. But let’s save it for the bedroom fire.”
“Sounds good to me. Want a Sheep Pie to go with your supper of apple glazed doves?”
“Is that the pie that tastes like a lemon tart?”
“Yep.”
“Bring it on Woman. I still can’t believe you caught those doves with a fishing net.”
“Burt Jr. gave me the idea. You know he’s a good kid. He reminds me … well don’t take this the wrong way … but I think he reminds me of what Tommy could have been at that age if there hadn’t been the accident.”
“You aren’t hurting anything by saying it. Even Uncle James has remarked on how similar they are in some things. And you won’t even hurt Burt’s feelings if he hears you say it because the first time he heard someone mention it he said that Tommy certainly wasn’t the worst person that Burt Jr. could grow up and be similar to. Frankly I think he hopes that he has some of Tommy’s construction talent. Burt is smart and does a lot of things well … but working with a hammer and nails isn’t one that comes natural to him. I expect he’ll have something bandaged up before the week is over if Delly doesn’t give me a ring to come over and help.”
Remembering all the times I’ve seen Burt with Band-Aids on his fingers I nodded and said, “They must keep the drug store in the green.”
Sawyer thought that was funny and laughed all the way back over to the wagon to start moving my buckets and coolers into the kitchen so I could deal with what I’d foraged.
In addition to the stuff that Sawyer had named I had chestnuts[1] and pecans to go with the black walnuts. I had found several almond trees along one of the trails and finally figured out what they were and brought a few back to test to see if they were ready to be harvested. I brought back some sunchokes[2] also but not as many as I had expected. Sawyer – and I wasn’t going to tell him this because he would feel bad – he had mowed over several patches that I had planned on digging up. I had tied them off with yarn but I guess he hadn’t seen it from the tractor seat. I found another whole fence row of muscandines out in the middle of nowhere for no reason that would need to be harvested as soon as I could get some help to do it. And right as I think I’ve found the last grove of fruit trees that I would need to keep track of for harvesting next year I found several rows of persimmon[3] trees that were pretty close to harvesting.
Sawyer may have been joking about finding gold but honestly, for the first time I feel rich. I mean really rich. It isn’t just the house and farm. It is all the stuff that the farm keeps revealing. Most of all I feel rich for having someone to share this all with. Sawyer. I never thought life could be like this. Not outside of a storybook. Not for me.
[1] http://www.chestnutgrowersinc.com/recipes.shtml
[2] The Spruce Eats - Make Your Best Meal
[3] Persimmon - Recipes | Cooks.com
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Another thank you 
. We don't have most of those wild foods out here in the PNW, to dry where we live. But it all sounds good.
. We don't have most of those wild foods out here in the PNW, to dry where we live. But it all sounds good.You'd be surprised what you can find on your own property if you know where to look. We have lambsquarter, thistle, and amaranth (red root pig weed), that I cuss every year when I'm weeding it - but I could eat it if I had to. Russian olives are edible, although I don't know of a good way to fix them. Eating them (and spitting out the tiny pits) makes your mouth feel like every drop of water in your body has evaporated. Burdock gets also cussed a lot (usually by DH when he finds it in the pasture). I could eat milkweed pods (I've heard they taste like asparagus) and cat tails grow anywhere there's water to speak of. I suppose I could eat bindweed, but it usually grows where there has been some type of ecological harm (probably pesticides/herbicides where I live).
I could eat a lot of these things - I just haven't been that hungry yet. I do take comfort in the fact of knowing they are there - and that they are edible.
I could eat a lot of these things - I just haven't been that hungry yet. I do take comfort in the fact of knowing they are there - and that they are edible.
RememberGoliad
Veteran Member
A/K/A carelessweed or kellyweed. Runs rampant in non-RoundupReady cotton, as anything that kills it will also kill cotton. I have eaten a whole lot of it. Good stuff...with enough salt, black pepper, and a few chayote thrown in with it.
Enjoying your story, Kathy! Gives me an 'escape' from coming home to an empty (except for the furkids) house and having too much time to think.
Sammy55
Veteran Member
Thanks, Kathy!! So many ideas!! I wish that my property had the wealth of foraging that Kay-Lee's does. But then, I haven't gotten out much to find out what's there!
I found a website for info on canning frozen orange juice concentrate -
Canning Frozen Orange Juice - Frugal Living on the Ranch
but would like to know if the same directions can be used for doing other juices and lemonades. Do you know? Or do you have any favorite sites or recipes? Thanks for the help! We don't have too many fruits to make juice from around here and I don't have the room to freeze a lot of juice. But would like to can some juice concentrate to have on hand.
I found a website for info on canning frozen orange juice concentrate -
Canning Frozen Orange Juice - Frugal Living on the Ranch
but would like to know if the same directions can be used for doing other juices and lemonades. Do you know? Or do you have any favorite sites or recipes? Thanks for the help! We don't have too many fruits to make juice from around here and I don't have the room to freeze a lot of juice. But would like to can some juice concentrate to have on hand.
Absolutely. I'm out of stock on my canned concentrate or I'd show you a picture. I used to have a shelf of such things but once I was diagnosed with diabetes I stopped doing it and just used all our stock. It looks like we are going to have a bumper crop of Ponderosa Lemons coming up here pretty soon so I might can some of those and then take the peel, dry it, and powder it for storage.
There hasn't been a whole lot of those little cans in the grocery store lately but if I can get some on sale I may just get some stocked back up.
Sammy55
Veteran Member
Thanks for the info, Kathy! I'm going to do some juice canning. Up here in northern Minnesota, we don't have the variety of fruits that you have. I love lemonade and would like to be able to can it as I don't have the room in my freezer. The powdered stuff doesn't taste the same, and I don't think the stuff in plastic bottles lasts very long. Plus, my DH likes cranberry juices and apple juice, and we both like orange juice. I didn't know you could can it, so I'm going to try it. Hopefully I'll get the chance to do it before TSHTF. I think I'll also pick up some lemons and can some of them and dry the peel, too. I read about lemon peel powder and want to try it. Thanks for the boost and info!
Old Gray Mare
TB Fanatic
RememberGoliad I looked up images of Kellyweed and found links to weed but probably not what you were discussing. I'm guessing you're talking about: Amaranthus retroflexus? I thought this (pigweed) was poisonous?
I knew where to look and spent alot of time babying what most thought were weeds but hurricanes Laura and Delta wiped out everything.............. and I really mean everything. I'm still searching for my beloved sassafras trees that lined my back fence line. I pray there is some root still there that will reemerge this spring.
RememberGoliad
Veteran Member
Carelessweed is redroot pigweed. "Kellyweed" is the ....well, probably a misnaming of it, with a Mexico-influenced pronunciation of carelessweed.
THIS (amaranthus palmeri) is what I'm calling carelessweed. And it does present problems in well-fertilized fields. On buckshotty or sandy ends of fields, not so much, as the nitrogen percs down fast enough where it doesn't accumulate in the plants.
juco
Veteran Member
Yeah...welcome to the wait. Did I make you look?
Why yes, as a matter of fact…you did. lol
Nancy in OK
Senior Member
Maybe we will get 10 chapters tomorrow! Sorry if I made you look but you made me look too!
Glug, glug, glug ... that sound you hear is me drowning in work. I am literally swamped. And Murphy won't take a hike ... as in I want him gone and I'm willing to pay an assassin to do it.
Taxes are kicking my butt. Just getting all of the documentation the account wants is a major pain in the patooty. And you know what they say? The shoemaker's children go barefoot. I've got a long list of honey do's to get done here at our home but the rental properties are taking all our time. We are heading to the BOL on Thursday (with my parents) so hopefully I can get some writing and editing done up there in the evenings if I don't have to entertain my parents all the time. Biggest strain today is that one of the men employed by the company doing our tree trimming had an accident on one of our properties and cut his Achilles tendon. We still don't have the whole story how it happened and if they were able to do anything to save the movement on that foot.
A bit of good news is that one of my daughters is turning 23 tomorrow and she finally got a job that is mostly in her field. It is part time and after school time wise but she's keeping her part time job as a barista on the days she doesn't do the other. She is starting at $14 and if it works out, by four months she'll be making $16/hour and there is a chance that the job will go full time within the year. She's been looking for months and this one does not require her to get vaccinated which was the big sticking point (no pun intended) for some of the other offers she had.
So, if I can get some chapters loaded tonight I will but it may be Thursday before I can draw breath again. Sorry for the delay.
Taxes are kicking my butt. Just getting all of the documentation the account wants is a major pain in the patooty. And you know what they say? The shoemaker's children go barefoot. I've got a long list of honey do's to get done here at our home but the rental properties are taking all our time. We are heading to the BOL on Thursday (with my parents) so hopefully I can get some writing and editing done up there in the evenings if I don't have to entertain my parents all the time. Biggest strain today is that one of the men employed by the company doing our tree trimming had an accident on one of our properties and cut his Achilles tendon. We still don't have the whole story how it happened and if they were able to do anything to save the movement on that foot.
A bit of good news is that one of my daughters is turning 23 tomorrow and she finally got a job that is mostly in her field. It is part time and after school time wise but she's keeping her part time job as a barista on the days she doesn't do the other. She is starting at $14 and if it works out, by four months she'll be making $16/hour and there is a chance that the job will go full time within the year. She's been looking for months and this one does not require her to get vaccinated which was the big sticking point (no pun intended) for some of the other offers she had.
So, if I can get some chapters loaded tonight I will but it may be Thursday before I can draw breath again. Sorry for the delay.
Sammy55
Veteran Member
Yay!! Kathy's back!! Glad it's just life keeping you busy and not other more serious things...not that some of what you have isn't serious, but it's not life-threatening.
Well, at least I know that I don't have to check anymore tonight. Maybe. I might one more time - to make it 25 - just to make sure you didn't post something.
Yay!! For your daughter!! Wonderful news for her!!
I hope the tax situation/stuff gets all ironed out.
And I hope your employee isn't badly hurt and it doesn't hurt your business.
Go and enjoy your parents and your BOL. (And hopefully there's no war to make it a REAL bug out!!)
We'll wait for you. We'll even leave the lights on! (I couldn't resist one more smiley.)
Well, at least I know that I don't have to check anymore tonight. Maybe. I might one more time - to make it 25 - just to make sure you didn't post something.
Yay!! For your daughter!! Wonderful news for her!!
I hope the tax situation/stuff gets all ironed out.
And I hope your employee isn't badly hurt and it doesn't hurt your business.
Go and enjoy your parents and your BOL. (And hopefully there's no war to make it a REAL bug out!!)
We'll wait for you. We'll even leave the lights on!
(I couldn't resist one more smiley.)
Chapter Seventy-One (Part 1)
We had to get up very early on the first really cold morning since we’d been married but we were both excited; Sawyer to go hunting and me for other reasons. I had been all prepared to try my hand at canning some of the first venison of the season until Sawyer had explained that the meat would need to hang and age before we did anything with it. So I put away the jars and pressure canner and planned on taking care of the black walnuts. First I had to catch up on some housework and some laundry that I had let slide the last couple of days while I foraged. I had no sooner set down to work on the black walnuts than Sawyer called to tell me that I would need to feed about ten hungry men. Apparently while Sawyer, Uncle James, and Tommy had gotten a deer each they had been field dressing them and been surprised by a flock of feral pigs … or maybe not a flock, maybe it is called a herd or something. Either way it was a bunch of them, and they were mean as they had a big tusker leading them.
The big tusker weighed several hundred pounds, and the other pigs weren’t much smaller except for the yearlings or whatever you call the pigs that aren’t piglets but they aren’t what you would call full-fledged adults either; those pigs weigh about a hundred or so pounds each. The herd or whatever you call it didn’t have any piglets with them which I was happy to hear because I don’t like the idea of orphan babies running around in the woods even if they are orphan pigs that will only eventually cause someone trouble.
Sawyer was breathless over the phone having just helped to lift most of the carcasses into the back of the pickup trucks. “Gramps and whoever else shows up will get some of the meat but with the day being nasty and cold I’m not sure who will show up. Just be prepared for about a dozen and that should be fine.” Turns out that Cutter, Davis, Benedict, their dads, Gramps, and Uncle Forrester showed up to help Uncle James, Tommy, and Sawyer.
The cold and damp almost immediately had Gramps and Uncle Forrester directing from the porch though eventually they were sitting in the warmth of the kitchen working on their lists of supplies and stuff until the sausage was ready for grinding and then they took over that part of the butchering. I helped them debone, trim, and cube pork butts and other pieces of the pork and then run it through a grinder. They said that all the sausage they were doing this time was going to be fresh, bulk sausage so the only ingredients was salt, sage, and pepper that they mixed in cold water and then mixed into the ground pork by hand in these huge enamel dish pans. Then they used this ginormous stuffer and put the bulk sausage into muslin tubes that were hand sewn and about three or four inches in diameter. It was very cool to watch and I told them so in between helping them and fixing a large cauldron of beans with smoked ham hocks, stewed potatoes, and several platters of cornbread.
Gramps of course interrogated me the entire time he was there, and I kept trying to tell him that Sawyer and I are doing well. We aren’t Rockefellers in the cash department, but we feel as rich as Midas in a lot of other areas.
Gramps shook his head. He wasn’t irritated but he was determined. “That’s a good way to look at things Sugar but I need a list of what you and Sawyer need.”
Just as determined I told him, “We’ve got all our needs met Gramps. We’ve got some wants sure but that’s all they are.”
Back and forth we went. “Now Sugar, I got onto Sawyer about being prideful.”
Trying not to get irritated because I knew he just wanted to help I suggested, “Why don’t you ask about something from your lists and I’ll try and be specific so you can see what I mean.”
“Sugar,” he said quickly trying to tease me.
I grinned and rolled my eyes at his silliness but got serious as I started to try and give him factual numbers. “Hmmm. We have almost seventy-five pounds of white sugar, several five gallon buckets of honey, a big barrel of sorghum, a small barrel of Karo syrup … the light cane syrup and a couple of bottles of the dark stuff … a few bottles of Briar Rabbit that were here when we moved in, then there is my brown sugar and powdered sugar.”
“Flour,” he said just as quickly.
I answered him each time he changed categories with what I could think of off the top of my head without actually having our inventory in front of us. When he came to milk I sighed. “We have several large cans of powdered milk and a couple cases of canned milk. I save that as much as possible though we have an account with Toby’s grandfather for things like fresh milk, butter, and cheese. So dried milk and powdered eggs are what we are trying to add more to. If it happens that’ll be good but we won’t starve without it.”
Uncle Forrester was smiling mischievously and I asked, “What?”
In his slow and precise post-Stroke speech he told me, “Show him your forage.”
“Oh. Gramps won’t want to see that,” I said somewhat embarrassed.
“Oh yes Gramps does,” said the man in question. “Thought I’d never be invited to. Let me wash my hands. You got it down in the basement?”
“Yes Sir,” I answered thinking of all the times that I had mentioned him taking a look, the last time being during cider making cook out.
The stairs didn’t make Gramps’ arthritis very happy, and I was aching a bit too so we both took it slow. But, when we got down in the basement and I turned the lights on down there Gramps blinked a couple of times and then started walking around the shelves that Sawyer and I had cleaned up as well as the new ones that we had added to hold everything. I worked hard to keep things clean and organized but it didn’t always stay the way I wanted it to be, especially when I added things like the buckets of all the nuts that I was working on. I waited anxiously for him to say something.
“Baby Girl?”
“Yes Sir?”
He sniffed and then used his bandana to wipe his nose. “This is beautiful. Has Pearl seen this?”
“I don’t think so, at least not to do more than stick her head down when we first started canning to make sure I had room and sturdy shelves to store the jars on. Aunt Suzanne has seen it as she helped me carry up some jars up one time but that’s been months ago too. When we got back up the stairs she closed the door tight and then winked at me. She never said anything else, and Sawyer and I don’t want it to seem like we are bragging or showing off.”
Gramps sniffed again and then acted like his nose itched. “Wanna show me your hobby? Maybe you won’t brag on it, but Sawyer has said a few things.”
I had been tempted to set all the preserved foraged things off by themselves but then I decided that if I was going to include them in our everyday menu then I might as well mix the jars with our everyday food storage. So the canned kudzu[1], wild mustard[2], dandelion[3], chickweed[4], and other wild greens were lined up neatly beside the spinach, collards, and other domestic greens. The wild parsnips and burdock were beside the carrots, potatoes, and other root veggies that came out of the farm gardens. The elderberry “champagne” was in the area with the grape and other domesticated fruit wines and liqueurs that Sawyer was helping to make. The serviceberries, wild blackberries, and elderberries set with the jams, jellies, perserves, etc. of the domesticated fruit. I showed him the jars of dried sumac drupes, dried mushrooms, and dried spicebush berries. He took a look at everything, occasionally picking up something off the shelves to get a closer look.
Gramps was silent for a moment then nodded. “Reckon this is going to sound like a million years ago to a young thing like you but I can remember my great grandmother having food like this in her pantry. Not necessarily done up in pretty jars, but in crocks and bottles that worked just as well for her. We were poor but rarely did we go hungry. Might have had to eat the same thing over and over at certain times of the season but it didn’t hurt us none and it was more than what some people had that had more money than we did. Seems we’ve lost ways we shouldn’t have lost, ways we might need again. I know Suzanne has mentioned it a few times; she and Pearl have had long discussions about it. Pearl just isn’t too sure the bulk of the family will understand. Wonder if the boys and their wives would eat this way.”
I told him, “Cutter ate kudzu and liked it.”
Gramps snorted and said, “That boy will eat anything so long as it doesn’t move fast enough to get away.”
At that moment there was the sound of a bunch of men coming in to get washed up and Gramps and I made our slow way back up the stairs. The men all left by midafternoon taking various cuts of meat with them. Sawyer was tired from being up very early so he did the outside chores, checked to make sure the hanging venison was secured for the night, and then settled onto the couch to listen to the news and promptly fell asleep. It wasn’t quite dark yet and I didn’t want to go to bed with so much left to do so I spent the next few hours setting some of our pork to cook in the crockpot so that I could can pulled pork tomorrow and basically trying to prepare ahead for what I needed to do the next day.
I trimmed most of the pork roasts so I could put it up in pint jars. I was told that we would get a couple of hams and a couple of shoulders as soon as they had been taken care of by Uncle James. Alternately he said he might just trade out some that he already has in the smoke house to make room for all the fresh coming in ahead of schedule. Uncle James said he would send Tommy over with some more hocks, salt pork, and things like that since I seemed to use them better than some of the others. He sighed and said the bacon had gone faster than had been planned for last year but if I could wait he would make sure that I got a good share of that and hog jowl as well and then get someone to show me how to can the bacon rather than have to worry about it sitting in the freezer. Because of that bit of news I set beans to soak overnight so that I can make home canned pork n’ beans using the salt pork.
After that I was tired but too wound up to go to bed for the night so I pulled out my own notebooks and started thinking. Gramps asking me about all of the basics had given me an itchy feeling on the back of my neck. I know I need to talk to Sawyer about my thoughts but not until I have them in order so they’ll make sense. One of the things I had been pondering is how to do stuff if or when a staple ingredient ran out.
We spent at least a week every semester of culinary class going over substitutions. I keep a nifty little chart that I made and added to all during high school that lists all sorts of substitutions. For instance you use equal amounts of honey for sugar up to one cup. If you go over one cup, you replace each cup over of sugar with 2/3 to 3/4 cup of honey depending upon the sweetness desired. Then you lower the baking temperature 25 degrees and watch your time carefully since products with honey brown faster. In recipes using more than one cup honey for sugar, it may be necessary to reduce liquids by 1/4 cup per cup of honey. And in baked goods, add 1/4 teaspoon of baking soda per cup of honey if baking soda is not already included in the recipe. This will reduce the acidity of the honey, as well as increase the volume of your product.
And then when I found out about the sorghum we would get in exchange for Sawyer helping bring in the canes I went to the library and looked up how to substitute sorghum for white sugar as well. It was very similar to using honey. In replacing ordinary sugar with sorghum, you increase the amount of sorghum by 1/3 over the amount of sugar called for in the recipe. At the same time, decrease the amount of liquid (milk and/or water) by this same amount. This is to keep the amount of total liquids and sugars in balance. When replacing sorghum for sugar in baking recipes, you apparently need some experience so the first few times you use a recipe you’ll need to keep a close watch. The exact ratios of substitutions may vary somewhat between different recipes. Also, it is not recommended that all sugar be replace under most circumstances. Best results are obtained by replacing 50% to 75% of the sugar with the required amount of sorghum.
I’ve got a long list of other substitutions as well and a good thing I kept my list from school because Linda had lost hers. We took it to the library and made several copies to share with the other wives but not all of them took it. I think that it is foolish to turn down knowledge like that but maybe they have enough they don’t have to worry about things like I do. I hope that is the case anyway.
During his “interrogations” Gramps brought up one of my bigger worries and that is how will I get by without flour. Easy enough to just say do without or use cornmeal but I want other options as well and I know they are out there, it is a matter of whether they are feasible for our money situation.
One of the big issues that a lot of the special ed kids faced at school were special diets. Sometimes the special diets were about behavior; for instance plenty of the kids weren’t supposed to have foods with red dye in it. Sometimes the special diets were about messing with their medications, especially if they were on certain meds that didn’t mix well with caffeine. And sometimes it was about allergies. Things like milk, strawberries, and nuts were fairly simple to deal with but some students were allergic to wheat. That was a humdinger to try and work around. It is amazing the number of common dishes that have wheat in them. Just flouring something for frying was a no no for some of my classmates. Most cookies and crackers were out. Most gravies were as well. I wanted to try and use some of that creativity I learned during the semester we studied that but this time, not because either Sawyer or I had an allergy but because we simply might wind up without wheat flour of any kind to use.
isseurs-2/
We had to get up very early on the first really cold morning since we’d been married but we were both excited; Sawyer to go hunting and me for other reasons. I had been all prepared to try my hand at canning some of the first venison of the season until Sawyer had explained that the meat would need to hang and age before we did anything with it. So I put away the jars and pressure canner and planned on taking care of the black walnuts. First I had to catch up on some housework and some laundry that I had let slide the last couple of days while I foraged. I had no sooner set down to work on the black walnuts than Sawyer called to tell me that I would need to feed about ten hungry men. Apparently while Sawyer, Uncle James, and Tommy had gotten a deer each they had been field dressing them and been surprised by a flock of feral pigs … or maybe not a flock, maybe it is called a herd or something. Either way it was a bunch of them, and they were mean as they had a big tusker leading them.
The big tusker weighed several hundred pounds, and the other pigs weren’t much smaller except for the yearlings or whatever you call the pigs that aren’t piglets but they aren’t what you would call full-fledged adults either; those pigs weigh about a hundred or so pounds each. The herd or whatever you call it didn’t have any piglets with them which I was happy to hear because I don’t like the idea of orphan babies running around in the woods even if they are orphan pigs that will only eventually cause someone trouble.
Sawyer was breathless over the phone having just helped to lift most of the carcasses into the back of the pickup trucks. “Gramps and whoever else shows up will get some of the meat but with the day being nasty and cold I’m not sure who will show up. Just be prepared for about a dozen and that should be fine.” Turns out that Cutter, Davis, Benedict, their dads, Gramps, and Uncle Forrester showed up to help Uncle James, Tommy, and Sawyer.
The cold and damp almost immediately had Gramps and Uncle Forrester directing from the porch though eventually they were sitting in the warmth of the kitchen working on their lists of supplies and stuff until the sausage was ready for grinding and then they took over that part of the butchering. I helped them debone, trim, and cube pork butts and other pieces of the pork and then run it through a grinder. They said that all the sausage they were doing this time was going to be fresh, bulk sausage so the only ingredients was salt, sage, and pepper that they mixed in cold water and then mixed into the ground pork by hand in these huge enamel dish pans. Then they used this ginormous stuffer and put the bulk sausage into muslin tubes that were hand sewn and about three or four inches in diameter. It was very cool to watch and I told them so in between helping them and fixing a large cauldron of beans with smoked ham hocks, stewed potatoes, and several platters of cornbread.
Gramps of course interrogated me the entire time he was there, and I kept trying to tell him that Sawyer and I are doing well. We aren’t Rockefellers in the cash department, but we feel as rich as Midas in a lot of other areas.
Gramps shook his head. He wasn’t irritated but he was determined. “That’s a good way to look at things Sugar but I need a list of what you and Sawyer need.”
Just as determined I told him, “We’ve got all our needs met Gramps. We’ve got some wants sure but that’s all they are.”
Back and forth we went. “Now Sugar, I got onto Sawyer about being prideful.”
Trying not to get irritated because I knew he just wanted to help I suggested, “Why don’t you ask about something from your lists and I’ll try and be specific so you can see what I mean.”
“Sugar,” he said quickly trying to tease me.
I grinned and rolled my eyes at his silliness but got serious as I started to try and give him factual numbers. “Hmmm. We have almost seventy-five pounds of white sugar, several five gallon buckets of honey, a big barrel of sorghum, a small barrel of Karo syrup … the light cane syrup and a couple of bottles of the dark stuff … a few bottles of Briar Rabbit that were here when we moved in, then there is my brown sugar and powdered sugar.”
“Flour,” he said just as quickly.
I answered him each time he changed categories with what I could think of off the top of my head without actually having our inventory in front of us. When he came to milk I sighed. “We have several large cans of powdered milk and a couple cases of canned milk. I save that as much as possible though we have an account with Toby’s grandfather for things like fresh milk, butter, and cheese. So dried milk and powdered eggs are what we are trying to add more to. If it happens that’ll be good but we won’t starve without it.”
Uncle Forrester was smiling mischievously and I asked, “What?”
In his slow and precise post-Stroke speech he told me, “Show him your forage.”
“Oh. Gramps won’t want to see that,” I said somewhat embarrassed.
“Oh yes Gramps does,” said the man in question. “Thought I’d never be invited to. Let me wash my hands. You got it down in the basement?”
“Yes Sir,” I answered thinking of all the times that I had mentioned him taking a look, the last time being during cider making cook out.
The stairs didn’t make Gramps’ arthritis very happy, and I was aching a bit too so we both took it slow. But, when we got down in the basement and I turned the lights on down there Gramps blinked a couple of times and then started walking around the shelves that Sawyer and I had cleaned up as well as the new ones that we had added to hold everything. I worked hard to keep things clean and organized but it didn’t always stay the way I wanted it to be, especially when I added things like the buckets of all the nuts that I was working on. I waited anxiously for him to say something.
“Baby Girl?”
“Yes Sir?”
He sniffed and then used his bandana to wipe his nose. “This is beautiful. Has Pearl seen this?”
“I don’t think so, at least not to do more than stick her head down when we first started canning to make sure I had room and sturdy shelves to store the jars on. Aunt Suzanne has seen it as she helped me carry up some jars up one time but that’s been months ago too. When we got back up the stairs she closed the door tight and then winked at me. She never said anything else, and Sawyer and I don’t want it to seem like we are bragging or showing off.”
Gramps sniffed again and then acted like his nose itched. “Wanna show me your hobby? Maybe you won’t brag on it, but Sawyer has said a few things.”
I had been tempted to set all the preserved foraged things off by themselves but then I decided that if I was going to include them in our everyday menu then I might as well mix the jars with our everyday food storage. So the canned kudzu[1], wild mustard[2], dandelion[3], chickweed[4], and other wild greens were lined up neatly beside the spinach, collards, and other domestic greens. The wild parsnips and burdock were beside the carrots, potatoes, and other root veggies that came out of the farm gardens. The elderberry “champagne” was in the area with the grape and other domesticated fruit wines and liqueurs that Sawyer was helping to make. The serviceberries, wild blackberries, and elderberries set with the jams, jellies, perserves, etc. of the domesticated fruit. I showed him the jars of dried sumac drupes, dried mushrooms, and dried spicebush berries. He took a look at everything, occasionally picking up something off the shelves to get a closer look.
Gramps was silent for a moment then nodded. “Reckon this is going to sound like a million years ago to a young thing like you but I can remember my great grandmother having food like this in her pantry. Not necessarily done up in pretty jars, but in crocks and bottles that worked just as well for her. We were poor but rarely did we go hungry. Might have had to eat the same thing over and over at certain times of the season but it didn’t hurt us none and it was more than what some people had that had more money than we did. Seems we’ve lost ways we shouldn’t have lost, ways we might need again. I know Suzanne has mentioned it a few times; she and Pearl have had long discussions about it. Pearl just isn’t too sure the bulk of the family will understand. Wonder if the boys and their wives would eat this way.”
I told him, “Cutter ate kudzu and liked it.”
Gramps snorted and said, “That boy will eat anything so long as it doesn’t move fast enough to get away.”
At that moment there was the sound of a bunch of men coming in to get washed up and Gramps and I made our slow way back up the stairs. The men all left by midafternoon taking various cuts of meat with them. Sawyer was tired from being up very early so he did the outside chores, checked to make sure the hanging venison was secured for the night, and then settled onto the couch to listen to the news and promptly fell asleep. It wasn’t quite dark yet and I didn’t want to go to bed with so much left to do so I spent the next few hours setting some of our pork to cook in the crockpot so that I could can pulled pork tomorrow and basically trying to prepare ahead for what I needed to do the next day.
I trimmed most of the pork roasts so I could put it up in pint jars. I was told that we would get a couple of hams and a couple of shoulders as soon as they had been taken care of by Uncle James. Alternately he said he might just trade out some that he already has in the smoke house to make room for all the fresh coming in ahead of schedule. Uncle James said he would send Tommy over with some more hocks, salt pork, and things like that since I seemed to use them better than some of the others. He sighed and said the bacon had gone faster than had been planned for last year but if I could wait he would make sure that I got a good share of that and hog jowl as well and then get someone to show me how to can the bacon rather than have to worry about it sitting in the freezer. Because of that bit of news I set beans to soak overnight so that I can make home canned pork n’ beans using the salt pork.
After that I was tired but too wound up to go to bed for the night so I pulled out my own notebooks and started thinking. Gramps asking me about all of the basics had given me an itchy feeling on the back of my neck. I know I need to talk to Sawyer about my thoughts but not until I have them in order so they’ll make sense. One of the things I had been pondering is how to do stuff if or when a staple ingredient ran out.
We spent at least a week every semester of culinary class going over substitutions. I keep a nifty little chart that I made and added to all during high school that lists all sorts of substitutions. For instance you use equal amounts of honey for sugar up to one cup. If you go over one cup, you replace each cup over of sugar with 2/3 to 3/4 cup of honey depending upon the sweetness desired. Then you lower the baking temperature 25 degrees and watch your time carefully since products with honey brown faster. In recipes using more than one cup honey for sugar, it may be necessary to reduce liquids by 1/4 cup per cup of honey. And in baked goods, add 1/4 teaspoon of baking soda per cup of honey if baking soda is not already included in the recipe. This will reduce the acidity of the honey, as well as increase the volume of your product.
And then when I found out about the sorghum we would get in exchange for Sawyer helping bring in the canes I went to the library and looked up how to substitute sorghum for white sugar as well. It was very similar to using honey. In replacing ordinary sugar with sorghum, you increase the amount of sorghum by 1/3 over the amount of sugar called for in the recipe. At the same time, decrease the amount of liquid (milk and/or water) by this same amount. This is to keep the amount of total liquids and sugars in balance. When replacing sorghum for sugar in baking recipes, you apparently need some experience so the first few times you use a recipe you’ll need to keep a close watch. The exact ratios of substitutions may vary somewhat between different recipes. Also, it is not recommended that all sugar be replace under most circumstances. Best results are obtained by replacing 50% to 75% of the sugar with the required amount of sorghum.
I’ve got a long list of other substitutions as well and a good thing I kept my list from school because Linda had lost hers. We took it to the library and made several copies to share with the other wives but not all of them took it. I think that it is foolish to turn down knowledge like that but maybe they have enough they don’t have to worry about things like I do. I hope that is the case anyway.
During his “interrogations” Gramps brought up one of my bigger worries and that is how will I get by without flour. Easy enough to just say do without or use cornmeal but I want other options as well and I know they are out there, it is a matter of whether they are feasible for our money situation.
One of the big issues that a lot of the special ed kids faced at school were special diets. Sometimes the special diets were about behavior; for instance plenty of the kids weren’t supposed to have foods with red dye in it. Sometimes the special diets were about messing with their medications, especially if they were on certain meds that didn’t mix well with caffeine. And sometimes it was about allergies. Things like milk, strawberries, and nuts were fairly simple to deal with but some students were allergic to wheat. That was a humdinger to try and work around. It is amazing the number of common dishes that have wheat in them. Just flouring something for frying was a no no for some of my classmates. Most cookies and crackers were out. Most gravies were as well. I wanted to try and use some of that creativity I learned during the semester we studied that but this time, not because either Sawyer or I had an allergy but because we simply might wind up without wheat flour of any kind to use.
isseurs-2/
Chapter Seventy-One (Part 2)
I checked out a couple books from the library and found that it was time to pull them out to read. One of them is called “The Complete Guide to Wheat-Free Cooking” by Phyllis Potts. Of all the “wheat free” type cookbooks available for check out it looked the least threatening. There weren’t any pictures and the book was kind of flimsy but it has over three hundred pages and easily at least that many recipes. Almost at the very beginning of the book (on page 6) I found a list of flour substitutes that I immediately wrote into my notebook.
Flour Substitutes
One Cup of Wheat Flour equals:
7/8 cup amaranth flour
¾ cup white bean flour
7/8 cup buckwheat flour
7/8 cup chickpea (garbanzo) flour
¾ cup corn flour
1 cup corn meal
¾ cup millet flour
¾ cup oat flour
5/8 cup potato flour
¾ cup potato starch
7/8 cup rice flour
¾ cup soy flour
¾ cup tapioca flour
I recognized about half of them including the bean flours as during my last semester in school one of my culinary lessons had been on how to deal with unappetizing foods like old dried beans. Beans that are too old to cook up even in a pressure cooker can be ground like wheat and turned into a type of flour. Bean flour can be used in gravies or as a thickener for other stuff. Now apparently I found out it can be used to make bread too.
Millet I thought of as a type of birdseed that was often used as a hot cereal. I was pretty sure that amaranth was the same basic thing, but I’d never seen any for sale at the stores where I’d shopped. Same for the potato and tapioca flours though I knew you could find them in the gluten-free baking areas if the stores had them. Rice flour I had been interested in since school but had never had any scope to experiment with. And you needed a grain grinder which I had only recently became the owner of one courtesy of Burt who had bought a manual one for Delly as well. I have gotten pretty good at grinding my own wheat and corn so I knew it was time to try rice. The good thing is that several sources said that a twenty-five pound bag of rice should make enough flour to last a couple of months. It is a cheap way to extend my flour.
But there is a catch. Isn’t there always a catch to anything that sounds too good? The problem with almost every kind of flour besides wheat is that it has zippo gluten. Gluten is the stuff that makes dough all elastic and junk so it can trap the air bubbles made by yeast and make the bread rise. So the best thing to do is use wheat substitutes in flat breads or mix it with other things to make up for the lack of gluten.
Corn flour and corn meal I’m not going to worry about because I can make cornbread all day long and Sawyer will eat it by the skillet full. I also know how to make corn cakes which are a lot like pancakes and can be eaten savory or sweet depending what, if anything, you put on them. I started looking at the different recipes in the book and making notes and that is where Sawyer found me a couple of hours later when he finally woke up ready for bed.
“Hey, what’s the idea of leaving me to sleep on the sofa?”
“You were tired,” I told him.
“You aren’t?”
Shrugging I answered, “Yes and no.”
“Uh oh.”
I looked up and concerned I asked, “What?”
“You’ve got that look on your face.”
“What look?” I asked giving him a look that said no teasing.
“That look. The one that says you’re thinking hard and fast and not all of it is good thoughts. Plus, you’ve got that little line between your eyebrows that says you are getting stubborn on it.”
I sighed and stretched and listened to my body crack and pop as it always did when I’d been in one position too long. Sawyer shook his head at the sound and then slid into the chair opposite me while looking at the books I had spread across the table. “So what’s up oh wife of mine.”
“Ugh. What’s with the weird talk?”
“Tired. Dopey. Seriously though, what’s all this?”
“Gramps was …”
Sawyer dramatically dropped his head onto his arm. “Oh Lord, what now? Not another list?!”
I smiled at his antics and answered, “No, nothing like that. Just he was pushing hard to get all the details because apparently he is just determined to think the only thing holding us together is pride and the Hartford name which appears to be about the same thing. Uncle Forrester tried to lead him off the scent but without success.”
“When Gramps is in gear absolutely nothing and no one can distract him.” Then with a little worry showing he asked, “Did … er … did he upset you?”
I gave him a tired smile to let him know absolutely not. “Uh uh. I think I actually got him to ease back a little so hopefully he’ll give you some peace too. Uncle Forrester told me to show him the basement – and how Uncle Forrester knows I have no idea because it’s not like he has ever been down there.”
Making a face after he’d given it some thought he said, “Well … it’s like this … he asked me to take pictures a couple of weeks back. He wanted to see how we’d built the shelves. You know those two slats that we decided to nail up so we wouldn’t accidentally pull another jar off like that time we dropped the jalapeno peppers and stunk the basement up. I took them with my phone and then he made me load them up onto his computer so he could enlarge them and look at them. I didn’t think anything of it. Sure didn’t think he’d say something. You aren’t upset are you?”
I shrugged. “Why on earth would I be? They’re your family and I like Uncle Forrester. I just don’t want anyone to think we have big heads or anything like that.”
“I’m starting to not care what some of them think.”
Hearing the tone in his voice I said, “Uh oh, that doesn’t sound good.”
“I’m not fighting with any of them and don’t plan on it if that’s what you are worried about. Gramps doesn’t tolerate feuding in the family, and he’s already had to get onto a couple of them that were nitpicking each other to death. I’m just getting tired of some of them not going as hard or as fast as they can but then finding plenty of time to sit around and complain of what they don’t have and what some of us do. You’d think I wouldn’t be surprised by it but I am.”
“Some of them might not be as mature as you.”
“You thinking Cutter?”
“I was wondering.”
“No. He’s ok. He’s settled down a lot and Beth has helped with that. I think it is the whole baby thing. He’s a little freaked out and trying not to show it. And it’s not Davis either. Uncle Mark rides his tail as bad as Gramps sometimes rides mine but Davis almost accepts that as kinda … motivation I guess you would say.”
“Your Uncle Mark’s motivation is definitely something I can do without.”
“Yeah but Davis … well whatever works. Cindy tolerates it well too because her father is the same way although it doesn’t seem to do Clay much good. As for the others, not my problem.”
“It might be our problem at some point if things get bad and they suddenly find themselves without. Especially with the job your Grandfather and Uncle James seem to be setting you … you and Tommy … up for.”
Showing his stubborn side Sawyer crossed his arms and said, “I’ll take the job but I’m not going to handicap anyone by doing too much for them. I think that is part of the problem some of them are having. We were coddled … all of us boys were. We were allowed to run wild. We worked hard, played hard, but not all of us had to pay the consequences we should have or had to work hard all the time like we have to now. Those that worked in town got used to town hours and town habits and now they are having to unlearn bad habits. A lot of us lived at home until just recently … or we lived in apartments on the farm and ate with family so never really learned the price of things like maybe we should have before now. Some have taken it better than others have. I hope when things really do get hard that it pulls the others the rest of the way in line. If it doesn’t … when you really love someone sometimes all you can do is let them pay for what they didn’t do. And yes, I’m sitting here with my face all hanging out eating crow because I had to learn that lesson too. And if I can then they can which is half of what irritates me.”
I reached over and put my hand on his where it started to ball up, showing his frustration. “Well if they do they do and if they don’t I guess we deal with it when it happens.”
Trying to relax when he realized he didn’t need to fight me on it he said, “Yeah … so this stuff …?”
I shrugged once again. “Just trying to figure a way around things in case we run short of stuff.” I stretched and popped again and told him, “In school we were always short of something because of budget cuts. Instead of getting all wiggy Mrs. Valdez and the other teachers used it as a teaching opportunity. We had to learn to substitute for things when we didn’t have it or didn’t have enough. Right now I’m working on what happens or what I can do about running low on wheat flour. We’ve got a lot of whole wheat that I can grind into flour but your family doesn’t grow wheat. We have to get this stuff at the feed depot and what if the feed depot goes out of business or wheat gets too expensive or they’ll only sell us a little bit at a time like happened back during the Civil War … like we watched on that documentary. They already are piecing out their inventory and we still haven’t received all that we ordered last time. Which reminds me we need to pick up a couple more of those galvanized trash cans and the liners for them.”
Interested despite his fatigue he said, “OK, I’ll bite. Let me write myself a reminder on those cans and I’ll try and get them on my next run to town and you tell me what we do if we run out of the stuff we put in them.”
I explained some of the things I was looking at and he made a few more notes of his own and then he said, “Fascinating conversation though this is Beautiful, I … am … tired. And even if you’re fighting it I can see you are too. Let’s just call it a night.”
I agreed with him. “But Sawyer, at some point we gotta think about this stuff. Gramps and Uncle Forrester sound like they are about to make the last supply run and then hunker down from here on out. They say they don’t want people remembering that they were just in to pick up a large order of anything. They want them to assume that we are out or just as short of supplies as they expect everyone else is going to be getting if they aren’t already are.”
“Yeah. Their tone has definitely gotten more serious I will admit. But man cannot live on stress alone. Babe … I gotta sleep.”
I could see it in his face and hear it in his voice. What else could I do but go up to bed? But it was a long time before I fell asleep. It wasn’t just the flour that could run out. There was a lot of stuff. And as the night got colder and Sawyer stopped snoring and really sunk deep into sleep, I wondered if I was overreacting or if the potential for danger that I was seeing was real.
[1]
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jbCMDQSWFWY
[2] http://www.eattheweeds.com/cutting-the-wild-mustard-brassica-sinapis-2/
[3] How to Preserve Dandelion Greens (and other greens, too!)
[4] http://www.eattheweeds.com/chickweed-conno
I checked out a couple books from the library and found that it was time to pull them out to read. One of them is called “The Complete Guide to Wheat-Free Cooking” by Phyllis Potts. Of all the “wheat free” type cookbooks available for check out it looked the least threatening. There weren’t any pictures and the book was kind of flimsy but it has over three hundred pages and easily at least that many recipes. Almost at the very beginning of the book (on page 6) I found a list of flour substitutes that I immediately wrote into my notebook.
Flour Substitutes
One Cup of Wheat Flour equals:
7/8 cup amaranth flour
¾ cup white bean flour
7/8 cup buckwheat flour
7/8 cup chickpea (garbanzo) flour
¾ cup corn flour
1 cup corn meal
¾ cup millet flour
¾ cup oat flour
5/8 cup potato flour
¾ cup potato starch
7/8 cup rice flour
¾ cup soy flour
¾ cup tapioca flour
I recognized about half of them including the bean flours as during my last semester in school one of my culinary lessons had been on how to deal with unappetizing foods like old dried beans. Beans that are too old to cook up even in a pressure cooker can be ground like wheat and turned into a type of flour. Bean flour can be used in gravies or as a thickener for other stuff. Now apparently I found out it can be used to make bread too.
Millet I thought of as a type of birdseed that was often used as a hot cereal. I was pretty sure that amaranth was the same basic thing, but I’d never seen any for sale at the stores where I’d shopped. Same for the potato and tapioca flours though I knew you could find them in the gluten-free baking areas if the stores had them. Rice flour I had been interested in since school but had never had any scope to experiment with. And you needed a grain grinder which I had only recently became the owner of one courtesy of Burt who had bought a manual one for Delly as well. I have gotten pretty good at grinding my own wheat and corn so I knew it was time to try rice. The good thing is that several sources said that a twenty-five pound bag of rice should make enough flour to last a couple of months. It is a cheap way to extend my flour.
But there is a catch. Isn’t there always a catch to anything that sounds too good? The problem with almost every kind of flour besides wheat is that it has zippo gluten. Gluten is the stuff that makes dough all elastic and junk so it can trap the air bubbles made by yeast and make the bread rise. So the best thing to do is use wheat substitutes in flat breads or mix it with other things to make up for the lack of gluten.
Corn flour and corn meal I’m not going to worry about because I can make cornbread all day long and Sawyer will eat it by the skillet full. I also know how to make corn cakes which are a lot like pancakes and can be eaten savory or sweet depending what, if anything, you put on them. I started looking at the different recipes in the book and making notes and that is where Sawyer found me a couple of hours later when he finally woke up ready for bed.
“Hey, what’s the idea of leaving me to sleep on the sofa?”
“You were tired,” I told him.
“You aren’t?”
Shrugging I answered, “Yes and no.”
“Uh oh.”
I looked up and concerned I asked, “What?”
“You’ve got that look on your face.”
“What look?” I asked giving him a look that said no teasing.
“That look. The one that says you’re thinking hard and fast and not all of it is good thoughts. Plus, you’ve got that little line between your eyebrows that says you are getting stubborn on it.”
I sighed and stretched and listened to my body crack and pop as it always did when I’d been in one position too long. Sawyer shook his head at the sound and then slid into the chair opposite me while looking at the books I had spread across the table. “So what’s up oh wife of mine.”
“Ugh. What’s with the weird talk?”
“Tired. Dopey. Seriously though, what’s all this?”
“Gramps was …”
Sawyer dramatically dropped his head onto his arm. “Oh Lord, what now? Not another list?!”
I smiled at his antics and answered, “No, nothing like that. Just he was pushing hard to get all the details because apparently he is just determined to think the only thing holding us together is pride and the Hartford name which appears to be about the same thing. Uncle Forrester tried to lead him off the scent but without success.”
“When Gramps is in gear absolutely nothing and no one can distract him.” Then with a little worry showing he asked, “Did … er … did he upset you?”
I gave him a tired smile to let him know absolutely not. “Uh uh. I think I actually got him to ease back a little so hopefully he’ll give you some peace too. Uncle Forrester told me to show him the basement – and how Uncle Forrester knows I have no idea because it’s not like he has ever been down there.”
Making a face after he’d given it some thought he said, “Well … it’s like this … he asked me to take pictures a couple of weeks back. He wanted to see how we’d built the shelves. You know those two slats that we decided to nail up so we wouldn’t accidentally pull another jar off like that time we dropped the jalapeno peppers and stunk the basement up. I took them with my phone and then he made me load them up onto his computer so he could enlarge them and look at them. I didn’t think anything of it. Sure didn’t think he’d say something. You aren’t upset are you?”
I shrugged. “Why on earth would I be? They’re your family and I like Uncle Forrester. I just don’t want anyone to think we have big heads or anything like that.”
“I’m starting to not care what some of them think.”
Hearing the tone in his voice I said, “Uh oh, that doesn’t sound good.”
“I’m not fighting with any of them and don’t plan on it if that’s what you are worried about. Gramps doesn’t tolerate feuding in the family, and he’s already had to get onto a couple of them that were nitpicking each other to death. I’m just getting tired of some of them not going as hard or as fast as they can but then finding plenty of time to sit around and complain of what they don’t have and what some of us do. You’d think I wouldn’t be surprised by it but I am.”
“Some of them might not be as mature as you.”
“You thinking Cutter?”
“I was wondering.”
“No. He’s ok. He’s settled down a lot and Beth has helped with that. I think it is the whole baby thing. He’s a little freaked out and trying not to show it. And it’s not Davis either. Uncle Mark rides his tail as bad as Gramps sometimes rides mine but Davis almost accepts that as kinda … motivation I guess you would say.”
“Your Uncle Mark’s motivation is definitely something I can do without.”
“Yeah but Davis … well whatever works. Cindy tolerates it well too because her father is the same way although it doesn’t seem to do Clay much good. As for the others, not my problem.”
“It might be our problem at some point if things get bad and they suddenly find themselves without. Especially with the job your Grandfather and Uncle James seem to be setting you … you and Tommy … up for.”
Showing his stubborn side Sawyer crossed his arms and said, “I’ll take the job but I’m not going to handicap anyone by doing too much for them. I think that is part of the problem some of them are having. We were coddled … all of us boys were. We were allowed to run wild. We worked hard, played hard, but not all of us had to pay the consequences we should have or had to work hard all the time like we have to now. Those that worked in town got used to town hours and town habits and now they are having to unlearn bad habits. A lot of us lived at home until just recently … or we lived in apartments on the farm and ate with family so never really learned the price of things like maybe we should have before now. Some have taken it better than others have. I hope when things really do get hard that it pulls the others the rest of the way in line. If it doesn’t … when you really love someone sometimes all you can do is let them pay for what they didn’t do. And yes, I’m sitting here with my face all hanging out eating crow because I had to learn that lesson too. And if I can then they can which is half of what irritates me.”
I reached over and put my hand on his where it started to ball up, showing his frustration. “Well if they do they do and if they don’t I guess we deal with it when it happens.”
Trying to relax when he realized he didn’t need to fight me on it he said, “Yeah … so this stuff …?”
I shrugged once again. “Just trying to figure a way around things in case we run short of stuff.” I stretched and popped again and told him, “In school we were always short of something because of budget cuts. Instead of getting all wiggy Mrs. Valdez and the other teachers used it as a teaching opportunity. We had to learn to substitute for things when we didn’t have it or didn’t have enough. Right now I’m working on what happens or what I can do about running low on wheat flour. We’ve got a lot of whole wheat that I can grind into flour but your family doesn’t grow wheat. We have to get this stuff at the feed depot and what if the feed depot goes out of business or wheat gets too expensive or they’ll only sell us a little bit at a time like happened back during the Civil War … like we watched on that documentary. They already are piecing out their inventory and we still haven’t received all that we ordered last time. Which reminds me we need to pick up a couple more of those galvanized trash cans and the liners for them.”
Interested despite his fatigue he said, “OK, I’ll bite. Let me write myself a reminder on those cans and I’ll try and get them on my next run to town and you tell me what we do if we run out of the stuff we put in them.”
I explained some of the things I was looking at and he made a few more notes of his own and then he said, “Fascinating conversation though this is Beautiful, I … am … tired. And even if you’re fighting it I can see you are too. Let’s just call it a night.”
I agreed with him. “But Sawyer, at some point we gotta think about this stuff. Gramps and Uncle Forrester sound like they are about to make the last supply run and then hunker down from here on out. They say they don’t want people remembering that they were just in to pick up a large order of anything. They want them to assume that we are out or just as short of supplies as they expect everyone else is going to be getting if they aren’t already are.”
“Yeah. Their tone has definitely gotten more serious I will admit. But man cannot live on stress alone. Babe … I gotta sleep.”
I could see it in his face and hear it in his voice. What else could I do but go up to bed? But it was a long time before I fell asleep. It wasn’t just the flour that could run out. There was a lot of stuff. And as the night got colder and Sawyer stopped snoring and really sunk deep into sleep, I wondered if I was overreacting or if the potential for danger that I was seeing was real.
[1]
[2] http://www.eattheweeds.com/cutting-the-wild-mustard-brassica-sinapis-2/
[3] How to Preserve Dandelion Greens (and other greens, too!)
[4] http://www.eattheweeds.com/chickweed-conno
Chapter Seventy-Two
“The hell you say!”
Startled at Sawyer’s sudden yell I looked out the back window to see him and another man just about to come to blows. I grabbed the wrist rocket I kept on a nail hanging by the door and the bag of rocks and ball bearings that hung beside it and quietly stepped out onto the porch. That’s when I saw Cutter and some of the other cousins looking between the two like they didn’t know which side to pick.
I startled them all by calling, “Cutter?! What’s going on?!”
“Uh … maybe you better go inside Kay-Lee,” he answered.
“Not while that guy looks like he is going to fight Sawyer. And what are you bunch just standing around for?! Help him!”
Sawyer growled. “Kay-Lee … this is Jamison. I told you about him. He showed up not that long ago and has been settling in. However, he seems to think – they all apparently seem to think – because you and I have busted our butts to save what propane we have left that because they didn’t they should all just be able to come over here and ‘borrow’ some.”
I sighed. This had to be at the top of my list of worst-case scenarios that I had been imagining. That’s when Jamison took a swing at Sawyer. It was a sucker punch that none in the yard had been expecting, not even Sawyer. I did something they apparently expected even less. I put a stone in the wrist rocket and let fly, pegging Jamison in the knee. He screamed and dropped. Everyone stopped dead still trying to figure out what had just happened.
As close to being hissing mad as I have ever felt I said, “Boys, don’t take this the wrong way but I do believe Gramps has outlawed feuding in the family. Next one of you that tries to cheat and be a jackass will get the same. And Jamison?” I yelled towards the man on the ground holding his leg. “Next time you threaten my husband – who is the only thing that stands between me and being thrown to the wolves of this world – you better watch your back for the rest of your life. I will put you down the same way I put down the chicken killing dog that came into our yard and tried to kill my rooster. You better understand that.”
A voice from the side of the house said, “You’re a Baffa all right.” The men in the yard jumped but I didn’t.
I snapped at Uncle Mark. “And I married a Hartford. Which must make me even crazier. Whatever. Have you come to watch the circus or participate in it?”
Uncle Mark snorted. “Definitely a Baffa. God help any kid the two of you have. They’ll be crazy on both sides.”
Then something smacked the porch rail and this time even I jumped. There was a growl and I turned and saw what it was and said for all of us, “Uh oh.”
Sawyer for some reason chose that moment to snicker. Then to laugh.
“Sawyer Hartford! This is not a laughing matter. Uncle Forrester is angry. That’s the look he had on his face when he saved me from those guys at the flea market. I told you it wouldn’t be a good thing to get on his bad side and now I think I’ve gone and done it.”
Uncle Forrester “harrumphed” and smacked his cane against the porch rail again and then beckoned me forward. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t stand by and let him …”
“Hush. Inside,” he said directing me back into the kitchen with his cane.
I looked at Sawyer and could see his fists getting balled up, but he nodded and I stepped through the back door into the kitchen. Aunt Pearl and Aunt Suzanne stood there and I was ready to get really balled out but instead they said, “They’re liable to take a while but they’ll work it out. Gramps would have been here, but Jeannie went into labor last night and he is at the hospital with Benedict and Ben. There’s been a complication and they are trying to get her family to come to the hospital.”
“What?!”
Sawyer called from outside, “Kay-Lee?”
I ran out ignoring everyone else and said, “Jeannie … the baby … some kind of complication. Sawyer …”
Next to Linda, Jeannie was the closest thing I had to a friend. She’d even said we were all sisters. I’d just talked to her the day before and she seemed fine, tired but also excited about the baby arriving and hoping it was soon. And now to hear there was trouble. Sawyer, as concerned by my reaction as he was the news came up onto the porch, saw the aunts and asked what was up.
Aunt Suzanne sighed. “The cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck. He came out blue and is taking a long time to get his numbers up.”
“Numbers?”
Knowing the answer because of stuff I’d heard about me my whole life I explained, “When you are born you get a number assigned to you based on how responsive you are and a couple of other things. It is called an Apgar score. My numbers were in the tank.” Turning from Sawyer I asked, “How bad?”
“Bad but he’s breathing on his own now. They just don’t know how long the cord was … was wound around …”
After that there was a real ruckus. Nothing was solved but everyone was willing to put away their differences, at least temporarily, in favor of supporting Benedict and Jeannie. I guess that is what family is all about though Jamison and I gave each other dirty looks. Uncle Mark saw and tried to push at me a little bit but I’d had enough of his brand of attitude and told him, “Call me whatever you want Uncle Mark but if that guy – Hartford or not – takes another cheater’s swing at Sawyer I mean it; I will peg him in the butt with steel ball bearings and make sure he won’t be able to sit for a long time while the rest of us work ours off. I don’t know what is running through everyone’s head but Gramps and all you uncles have been telling us to be careful and frugal because bad times are coming. Well they aren’t coming any more. They’re here. But that’s no excuse to make things worse by stealing from family because you were too stupid to heed the good advice you were being given all along.”
I turned and stumbled after Sawyer who helped me into the truck. He insisted on helping me with the seatbelt and while he was doing it said, “Ignore ‘em. Just focus on Jeannie and stuff for a while and let me handle this other.”
When Sawyer got in the truck I asked him, “What happened? All I saw was the start of a fight then super jerk take a pot shot at you. I mean I know you know what you are doing and would have put him down hard but …”
Sawyer sighed. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’ve known Jamison has been here for a few weeks but haven’t crossed paths with him. Been too busy and he hasn’t been to any of the work days. I ain’t fool enough to assume I’d win a match up against him. Jamison worked the oil fields and is not someone to be messed with but … geez … I didn’t think he would do what he did.”
“What started it?”
“They just showed up. They didn’t ask or nothing. If I hadn’t been home you wouldn’t have been able to stop them. They would have bled the tank dry.”
“But why?”
“Because they were out and we had some.”
“Huh? But … I mean … they had their tanks filled up after we did.”
He shook his head in aggravation and concern. “I know we talked about this happening but I didn’t figure it would be done by family.”
“I … I guess I didn’t make things any better. Now I’ve got Uncle Forrester mad at me and …”
“Whoa. No you don’t. Uncle Forrester heard about what was happening and made Uncle Mark drive him over to try and stop it while Uncle James and Tommy drove around to the other places to take a good look at what is going on.”
“But I hurt Jamison.”
“Jamison is lucky he didn’t get shot. And that’s the only thing that is making me glad I’ve put off teaching you to shoot. That changes tomorrow though. You’ve never met Jamison and don’t know who he is. If you hadn’t asked Cutter and just based your actions on the threat that Jamison was making of himself you could have gotten scared enough to shoot him.”
“And I’ll try and not have nightmares about that now that you’ve mentioned in. But what I don’t get is why the others were acting like they were acting. They know the score even if Jamison doesn’t.”
Sawyer sighed and it told me how sad he was. “I feel like I’ve come so far only to be thrown off the side mountain three-quarters of the way up.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why they thought they had the right to come in and do something like that. I might have been inclined to let some of them come over and share the hot water or whatever the problem is but for them to think they could just take it? We got some figuring to do Kay-Lee.”
“Yes we do. And it starts with me not wanting you to work for those that did this. I can’t believe Cutter of all people.”
“Cutter and Beth are having some problems. Beth is complaining that Cutter isn’t doing his share and Cutter thinks Beth doesn’t appreciate what he does and wants what she had with her parents … who have money in case you haven’t guessed. The stress is getting to them.”
Half understanding I told him, “The stress has been getting to all of us every so often. Even you and I have gotten snarky a few times. And I’ve heard the other wives complaining and comparing what they have with what we’ve worked for. It’s stupid. Wasting time with words that generally get you nowhere but behinder when action is what is needed to move forward. The only ones that ever came with me foraging were Linda and Jeannie … well Beth has a couple of times but not far from the house; the others looked at me like I was crazy taking it so far. Even most of the aunts aren’t thinking about things getting that bad. Aunt Suzanne and Aunt Nel have given me lots of support but even Aunt Pearl considers it a funny quirk I have. Half the time she is for it and the other half she tries to get me to spend that time doing something ‘more constructive’ or something along those lines. I had to defend it so much I finally just had to make out like it was a hobby and that it was a culinary adventure for me.”
“Did it work?”
“You mean did they believe me? Some. It got most of the teasing to stop but the worst of them still have to make a comment every now and then. Mostly they dislike me because they think I am a suck up. And now they are going to think I am a Yoko Ono.”
“A what?!”
“John Lennon – you know the Beatles guy, singer, whatever you call him – had this girlfriend named Yoko Ono that a lot of fans blamed for being what broke up the Beatles and made John go so weird and hippie. I don’t know if it is true or not but enough people believed it that the idea got turned into a stereotype or cliché. Now if a guy starts dating a girl, or marries her, and it breaks up a band or business or whatever he has with some other guys people say he got Yoko’d or say the girl is his Yoko Ono.”
“That’s got to be one of the damned stupidiest things I’ve ever heard. And how the hell does that apply here?”
“You must be mad, you’re losing your religion. I hope it isn’t at me.”
Sawyer was quiet for a moment and then said, “No, not at you. At this situation. At … at just all of it. But next time I don’t want to see you try on purpose to get hurt.”
Suddenly furious I said, “There better not be a next time or it won’t be me or you who gets hurt. If Jamison or any of those other meatheads think I was kidding they better unthink it. You’re everything I have in this world. If not for you I am pretty sure I would be dead … or wishing I was. I won’t go back there. I won’t. We are together and that’s just the way it is and if they can’t handle it they can suck wind and broken teeth when I let fly with my next rock.”
Sawyer saw how truly upset I was and pulled over and pulled me into his arms. “It’s OK Kay-Lee. Didn’t I promise you I wouldn’t let anyone put you on the street?”
I held on tight and told him, “It’s not the street I’m most scared of anymore Sawyer. It’s losing you. I can’t face what I am anymore without you. With you I am Kay-Lee Baffa Hartford, a little mechanically challenged but I find life still worth trying to make it through the day. Without you I’m just Igor Baffa all over again and life just wouldn’t be worth living.”
“The hell you say!”
Startled at Sawyer’s sudden yell I looked out the back window to see him and another man just about to come to blows. I grabbed the wrist rocket I kept on a nail hanging by the door and the bag of rocks and ball bearings that hung beside it and quietly stepped out onto the porch. That’s when I saw Cutter and some of the other cousins looking between the two like they didn’t know which side to pick.
I startled them all by calling, “Cutter?! What’s going on?!”
“Uh … maybe you better go inside Kay-Lee,” he answered.
“Not while that guy looks like he is going to fight Sawyer. And what are you bunch just standing around for?! Help him!”
Sawyer growled. “Kay-Lee … this is Jamison. I told you about him. He showed up not that long ago and has been settling in. However, he seems to think – they all apparently seem to think – because you and I have busted our butts to save what propane we have left that because they didn’t they should all just be able to come over here and ‘borrow’ some.”
I sighed. This had to be at the top of my list of worst-case scenarios that I had been imagining. That’s when Jamison took a swing at Sawyer. It was a sucker punch that none in the yard had been expecting, not even Sawyer. I did something they apparently expected even less. I put a stone in the wrist rocket and let fly, pegging Jamison in the knee. He screamed and dropped. Everyone stopped dead still trying to figure out what had just happened.
As close to being hissing mad as I have ever felt I said, “Boys, don’t take this the wrong way but I do believe Gramps has outlawed feuding in the family. Next one of you that tries to cheat and be a jackass will get the same. And Jamison?” I yelled towards the man on the ground holding his leg. “Next time you threaten my husband – who is the only thing that stands between me and being thrown to the wolves of this world – you better watch your back for the rest of your life. I will put you down the same way I put down the chicken killing dog that came into our yard and tried to kill my rooster. You better understand that.”
A voice from the side of the house said, “You’re a Baffa all right.” The men in the yard jumped but I didn’t.
I snapped at Uncle Mark. “And I married a Hartford. Which must make me even crazier. Whatever. Have you come to watch the circus or participate in it?”
Uncle Mark snorted. “Definitely a Baffa. God help any kid the two of you have. They’ll be crazy on both sides.”
Then something smacked the porch rail and this time even I jumped. There was a growl and I turned and saw what it was and said for all of us, “Uh oh.”
Sawyer for some reason chose that moment to snicker. Then to laugh.
“Sawyer Hartford! This is not a laughing matter. Uncle Forrester is angry. That’s the look he had on his face when he saved me from those guys at the flea market. I told you it wouldn’t be a good thing to get on his bad side and now I think I’ve gone and done it.”
Uncle Forrester “harrumphed” and smacked his cane against the porch rail again and then beckoned me forward. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t stand by and let him …”
“Hush. Inside,” he said directing me back into the kitchen with his cane.
I looked at Sawyer and could see his fists getting balled up, but he nodded and I stepped through the back door into the kitchen. Aunt Pearl and Aunt Suzanne stood there and I was ready to get really balled out but instead they said, “They’re liable to take a while but they’ll work it out. Gramps would have been here, but Jeannie went into labor last night and he is at the hospital with Benedict and Ben. There’s been a complication and they are trying to get her family to come to the hospital.”
“What?!”
Sawyer called from outside, “Kay-Lee?”
I ran out ignoring everyone else and said, “Jeannie … the baby … some kind of complication. Sawyer …”
Next to Linda, Jeannie was the closest thing I had to a friend. She’d even said we were all sisters. I’d just talked to her the day before and she seemed fine, tired but also excited about the baby arriving and hoping it was soon. And now to hear there was trouble. Sawyer, as concerned by my reaction as he was the news came up onto the porch, saw the aunts and asked what was up.
Aunt Suzanne sighed. “The cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck. He came out blue and is taking a long time to get his numbers up.”
“Numbers?”
Knowing the answer because of stuff I’d heard about me my whole life I explained, “When you are born you get a number assigned to you based on how responsive you are and a couple of other things. It is called an Apgar score. My numbers were in the tank.” Turning from Sawyer I asked, “How bad?”
“Bad but he’s breathing on his own now. They just don’t know how long the cord was … was wound around …”
After that there was a real ruckus. Nothing was solved but everyone was willing to put away their differences, at least temporarily, in favor of supporting Benedict and Jeannie. I guess that is what family is all about though Jamison and I gave each other dirty looks. Uncle Mark saw and tried to push at me a little bit but I’d had enough of his brand of attitude and told him, “Call me whatever you want Uncle Mark but if that guy – Hartford or not – takes another cheater’s swing at Sawyer I mean it; I will peg him in the butt with steel ball bearings and make sure he won’t be able to sit for a long time while the rest of us work ours off. I don’t know what is running through everyone’s head but Gramps and all you uncles have been telling us to be careful and frugal because bad times are coming. Well they aren’t coming any more. They’re here. But that’s no excuse to make things worse by stealing from family because you were too stupid to heed the good advice you were being given all along.”
I turned and stumbled after Sawyer who helped me into the truck. He insisted on helping me with the seatbelt and while he was doing it said, “Ignore ‘em. Just focus on Jeannie and stuff for a while and let me handle this other.”
When Sawyer got in the truck I asked him, “What happened? All I saw was the start of a fight then super jerk take a pot shot at you. I mean I know you know what you are doing and would have put him down hard but …”
Sawyer sighed. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’ve known Jamison has been here for a few weeks but haven’t crossed paths with him. Been too busy and he hasn’t been to any of the work days. I ain’t fool enough to assume I’d win a match up against him. Jamison worked the oil fields and is not someone to be messed with but … geez … I didn’t think he would do what he did.”
“What started it?”
“They just showed up. They didn’t ask or nothing. If I hadn’t been home you wouldn’t have been able to stop them. They would have bled the tank dry.”
“But why?”
“Because they were out and we had some.”
“Huh? But … I mean … they had their tanks filled up after we did.”
He shook his head in aggravation and concern. “I know we talked about this happening but I didn’t figure it would be done by family.”
“I … I guess I didn’t make things any better. Now I’ve got Uncle Forrester mad at me and …”
“Whoa. No you don’t. Uncle Forrester heard about what was happening and made Uncle Mark drive him over to try and stop it while Uncle James and Tommy drove around to the other places to take a good look at what is going on.”
“But I hurt Jamison.”
“Jamison is lucky he didn’t get shot. And that’s the only thing that is making me glad I’ve put off teaching you to shoot. That changes tomorrow though. You’ve never met Jamison and don’t know who he is. If you hadn’t asked Cutter and just based your actions on the threat that Jamison was making of himself you could have gotten scared enough to shoot him.”
“And I’ll try and not have nightmares about that now that you’ve mentioned in. But what I don’t get is why the others were acting like they were acting. They know the score even if Jamison doesn’t.”
Sawyer sighed and it told me how sad he was. “I feel like I’ve come so far only to be thrown off the side mountain three-quarters of the way up.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why they thought they had the right to come in and do something like that. I might have been inclined to let some of them come over and share the hot water or whatever the problem is but for them to think they could just take it? We got some figuring to do Kay-Lee.”
“Yes we do. And it starts with me not wanting you to work for those that did this. I can’t believe Cutter of all people.”
“Cutter and Beth are having some problems. Beth is complaining that Cutter isn’t doing his share and Cutter thinks Beth doesn’t appreciate what he does and wants what she had with her parents … who have money in case you haven’t guessed. The stress is getting to them.”
Half understanding I told him, “The stress has been getting to all of us every so often. Even you and I have gotten snarky a few times. And I’ve heard the other wives complaining and comparing what they have with what we’ve worked for. It’s stupid. Wasting time with words that generally get you nowhere but behinder when action is what is needed to move forward. The only ones that ever came with me foraging were Linda and Jeannie … well Beth has a couple of times but not far from the house; the others looked at me like I was crazy taking it so far. Even most of the aunts aren’t thinking about things getting that bad. Aunt Suzanne and Aunt Nel have given me lots of support but even Aunt Pearl considers it a funny quirk I have. Half the time she is for it and the other half she tries to get me to spend that time doing something ‘more constructive’ or something along those lines. I had to defend it so much I finally just had to make out like it was a hobby and that it was a culinary adventure for me.”
“Did it work?”
“You mean did they believe me? Some. It got most of the teasing to stop but the worst of them still have to make a comment every now and then. Mostly they dislike me because they think I am a suck up. And now they are going to think I am a Yoko Ono.”
“A what?!”
“John Lennon – you know the Beatles guy, singer, whatever you call him – had this girlfriend named Yoko Ono that a lot of fans blamed for being what broke up the Beatles and made John go so weird and hippie. I don’t know if it is true or not but enough people believed it that the idea got turned into a stereotype or cliché. Now if a guy starts dating a girl, or marries her, and it breaks up a band or business or whatever he has with some other guys people say he got Yoko’d or say the girl is his Yoko Ono.”
“That’s got to be one of the damned stupidiest things I’ve ever heard. And how the hell does that apply here?”
“You must be mad, you’re losing your religion. I hope it isn’t at me.”
Sawyer was quiet for a moment and then said, “No, not at you. At this situation. At … at just all of it. But next time I don’t want to see you try on purpose to get hurt.”
Suddenly furious I said, “There better not be a next time or it won’t be me or you who gets hurt. If Jamison or any of those other meatheads think I was kidding they better unthink it. You’re everything I have in this world. If not for you I am pretty sure I would be dead … or wishing I was. I won’t go back there. I won’t. We are together and that’s just the way it is and if they can’t handle it they can suck wind and broken teeth when I let fly with my next rock.”
Sawyer saw how truly upset I was and pulled over and pulled me into his arms. “It’s OK Kay-Lee. Didn’t I promise you I wouldn’t let anyone put you on the street?”
I held on tight and told him, “It’s not the street I’m most scared of anymore Sawyer. It’s losing you. I can’t face what I am anymore without you. With you I am Kay-Lee Baffa Hartford, a little mechanically challenged but I find life still worth trying to make it through the day. Without you I’m just Igor Baffa all over again and life just wouldn’t be worth living.”
Chapter Seventy-Three
Nervous of the answer I let Sawyer ask Uncle Ben how things stood. He answered, “’Bout as good as can be expected. Jeannie is blaming herself. Benedict is scared to death. They’ve moved the boy out of the NICU but he still just ain’t acting right.”
Relieved and surprised at the answer I blinked, trying to figure out why they were all so still upset. “Wait, he’s out of NICU this fast? Don’t you know how good that is?”
Uncle Ben looked at me in surprise. “Good?”
“Seriously good. They wouldn’t move him out of NICU if they thought he was in danger.” I looked at Sawyer and said, “He’s going to live.”
Benedict came through the door and said, “They don’t know if he’s going to have anything wrong with him.”
“Don’t be stupid. He’s a Hartford boy. Every one of you has something wrong with you so I don’t see why he’d escape whatever damage you turkeys have. Move.”
Linda was sitting beside Jeannie looking like she was trying to swallow a surprised giggle. Jeannie was just staring at me with a tear-stained face and her mouth hanging open like she couldn’t believe what I’d just said. I told her, “They moved him out of NICU!”
“I … I know. They just told us.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“They said … they said they still aren’t sure …”
“Whether there is something wrong with him because his oxygen was cut off?”
Benedict came in angry and started to say, “Dammit … don’t upset her.”
“What’s upsetting is for me to see the two of you act like the world is coming to an end. Your little boy is going to live! Why aren’t you jumping up and down crazy happy about that?”
They just looked at me confused. I shook my head. “For you to be church people you sure do need reminding of things a lot. Look at me. You know how long I lived in the NICU and PICU until they thought I might live? Most of the first year of my life. And yet here I am. Life wasn’t easy, it wasn’t great, but I’m alive and most of the time I’ve managed to find that a pretty good thing to be. And that was without too many people around to encourage me to feel that way. You have a whole family full of people that can go around telling your baby that being alive is a good thing and to keep trying to be alive on those days that it isn’t so great. You can love him and touch him and he can love and touch you. Where’s your faith? Even I know about that stuff and I’d never been in a real church kinda place until Sawyer took me that first time. And where is Preacher Don? He’s a lot better at explaining this stuff than I am.” I shook my head and left the room.
Sawyer followed me as I went down the hallway I knew all too well. “Wait. Kay-Lee stop.” He grabbed my arm and turned me to him. “Where are you going?”
“Back to where I started. I was dead a couple of times before they got me here. I guess I died a couple more before I decided I was no good at it and gave it up in favor of trying something else.”
Shocked Sawyer yelped, “Kay-Lee!”
I shook my head, giddy in my relief. “Oh Sawyer. I guess it is just one of those things you’re not going to understand. You kinda had to be there. I don’t remember it; people just tell me about it and … well … it just is the way it was.”
Sawyer shrugged and followed me through the maze of hallways until we were in front of an old-fashioned viewing window. Most of the modern hospitals were getting rid of those windows for security reasons but they hadn’t here yet. I looked and found him almost immediately. “Oh look … there he is. Wow, he looks like Jeannie and Benedict all mashed together.”
“He isn’t crying,” Sawyer observed with concern. “All of the other babies are looking cranky or tuning up.”
Leaping to the baby’s defense whether I needed to or not I said, “He just went through an ordeal. He was tangled up coming out. Has probably been handled by dozens of medical staff whether he wanted to be or not. Shoved up and in one bassinet with a bunch of wires and monitors, lights blazing away at him, and now shoved in this one and put on display like a prize pig or something. Oh look! He moved. See?! He did it again. I bet he starts crying to be fed in under a minute.”
“How do you know that? I didn’t think you had anything to do with babies.”
I shook my head. “I said the school didn’t want us in their childcare program but when you are in foster care you pretty much learn about babies whether you want to or not. Older kids are always expected to help with younger kids. Plus I was in the hospital a lot and basically lived on pediatric units sometimes. Kids of all ages and pains were there.”
“So you know about kids.”
“Enough. And if I know anything it is that baby is a Hartford … and a boy Hartford on top of it. And if I know anything about boy Hartfords it is that they do not tolerate being hungry for very long without … see … told you.”
Baby Boy Hartford made a horrible face then started yelling. He wasn’t very loud but he was very definite about his displeasure. He even startled the nurse that had been changing another baby in the background.
I couldn’t help it. A laugh bubbled out of me and I clapped my hands. “You tell ‘em Baby Hartford!” I turned to Sawyer who was looking from me to the baby with a puzzled expression. “How did you … I mean … you said it would and then … it did … I …”
“Don’t just stand there. Call Benedict and tell him to put … oh never mind. I’ll do it.”
I called Linda’s phone and when she picked up told her to give the phone to Jeannie right away. “What?” she sniffled.
“Listen,” I told her before putting the phone to the glass. Then I took it away. “Know what that is? Someone letting the world know that he is disgusted with his situation and wants to be fed or changed or maybe both. But the face he is making sure says he wants to club someone. Looks just like a Hartford before he has had his first cup of coffee in the morning.”
It sounded like the phone fell or had been dropped and then I heard Jeannie demand, “Benedict get that chair over here and you push me where I need to go … right now. Hurry. He’s crying and I gotta …”
I didn’t hear anything else but I knew Jeannie so told Sawyer to stand back out of the way because if Benedict didn’t move fast enough Jeannie was liable to make a run down the hall with or without him.
**********
Later that evening Sawyer and I were walking out of Jeannie’s room. I was so happy I was wiping tears from my eyes but I guess your average person would have thought the tears were for another reason. Certainly a man that we almost ran into did. He looked at me and then turned very pale and started to keel over.
Sawyer yelled, “Benedict!”
Benedict came out just in time to see Sawyer and I trying to keep the guy from buckling all the way to the floor. “What the heck?”
The man looked at Benedict and said, “Jeannie? The … the baby?”
Benedict blinked and then stood straight and said, “They’re fine sir. We … uh … they … it was bad for a … but … oh geez.” He wilted and it finally clicked.
I patted the man’s shoulder and said, “Jeannie must take after her mother. Probably a good thing. Anyway, things were touch and go and then Benny Robert decided to show the whole nursery who is boss. Jeannie just finished feeding him and they took him off to do all the necessary measurements and chart commentary. The pediatrician should be back shortly with the full run down. Speaking of down, you look like you need to sit down before you fall down. Would you like a chair?”
“Jeannie … my little girl …”
Sawyer slid a chair under him so we could put him in it. He wasn’t exactly a lightweight. Benedict carefully went back when Jeannie demanded to know what was going on. A nurse was looking at us prepared to intervene when Benedict came out and asked Jeannie’s father, “Would … would you please come say hello to Jeannie? She … she really needs you to. If you want me to stay out here …”
The man shook his head. “No … no I’d like to see both of you. Hear … hear how Jeannie … how both of you … have been doing. Maybe … maybe see …”
“The baby? I’ll go ask the doctor.”
“After I see Jeannie.”
The man disappeared into the room and Benedict glanced at Sawyer, looking confused before going in and closing the door.
Thinking it over I said, “Guess there really is a reason for everything, even bad stuff.”
“Huh?”
Continuing down the rabbit trail were traveling I said, “It just seems sad that it took Benny Robert nearly getting strangled to get Jeannie’s family to start coming around. They sound as hardheaded as the Hartfords.”
Sawyer gave me a look and said, “Getting a little sassy there aren’t you?”
“Maybe. Ready to go? Whatever is happening in there is none of our business and will probably take a while. Benedict needs to handle it and if he can’t then Uncle Ben and Aunt Lurlene can.”
“Too right,” Sawyer said suddenly starting to hustle me towards the exit. “Let’s get out of here before there’s any more drama … like Jeannie’s mom or sister showing up.”
“Her mom will … as soon as she figures out Jeannie’s dad snuck over here. I’m not caring too much for the sister either way. She sounds like a stuck-up snob. Even Jeannie’s uncle said something that one time I met him.”
We were out of the parking lot and on the way home before I thought to ask, “Did anyone tell Gramps what happened this morning?”
“Yeah. He said that the hospital wasn’t the place to talk about it, that we were all to focus on Benedict and Jeannie and the baby.”
I nodded. “OK. Can I ask you something else? Why didn’t the dogs go nuts like they normally do? I didn’t even think about it until Linda asked who’d grabbed the dogs.”
“I had shut them in their kennel in the barn because I’d just finished brushing out all of the stickers and crap they brought in on their coat where they went hunting with me. I left them in the kennel until I can make sure they won’t take any food from anyone but us. Someone could poison them.”
“Jamison … he could shoot them.”
“He hurts my dogs and that really will be the end of it.”
“I still worry that Uncle Forrester …”
Sawyer swore under his breath. “You really are determined on this aren’t you?”
Irritated I said, “Well just tell me to shut up then. It’s not every day I promise to commit mayhem on a man I never met and find out he’s some kind of family.”
I turned to look out at the dark through the fogged up passenger window. Sawyer sighed. “I didn’t mean that quite the way it sounded.”
“Whatever Sawyer. They’re your family, but I guess because I’ve been calling them that I expected them to act like it. I knew … or knew of … some of them before I knew you. Now I don’t know what to think.”
“Of the family or of them.”
“Both. If Gramps thinks you bunch are going to play nice together in the middle of the end of the world I can pretty much say after this morning’s actions that he is in for some serious disappointment. And I hope that the family job he is setting you up with doesn’t include laying down and letting people walk all over you just because they feel they are due something or other.”
We were silent the rest of the way home, both of us deep into our own thoughts. It was when we pulled in that we saw Cutter sitting on the porch.
Nervous of the answer I let Sawyer ask Uncle Ben how things stood. He answered, “’Bout as good as can be expected. Jeannie is blaming herself. Benedict is scared to death. They’ve moved the boy out of the NICU but he still just ain’t acting right.”
Relieved and surprised at the answer I blinked, trying to figure out why they were all so still upset. “Wait, he’s out of NICU this fast? Don’t you know how good that is?”
Uncle Ben looked at me in surprise. “Good?”
“Seriously good. They wouldn’t move him out of NICU if they thought he was in danger.” I looked at Sawyer and said, “He’s going to live.”
Benedict came through the door and said, “They don’t know if he’s going to have anything wrong with him.”
“Don’t be stupid. He’s a Hartford boy. Every one of you has something wrong with you so I don’t see why he’d escape whatever damage you turkeys have. Move.”
Linda was sitting beside Jeannie looking like she was trying to swallow a surprised giggle. Jeannie was just staring at me with a tear-stained face and her mouth hanging open like she couldn’t believe what I’d just said. I told her, “They moved him out of NICU!”
“I … I know. They just told us.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“They said … they said they still aren’t sure …”
“Whether there is something wrong with him because his oxygen was cut off?”
Benedict came in angry and started to say, “Dammit … don’t upset her.”
“What’s upsetting is for me to see the two of you act like the world is coming to an end. Your little boy is going to live! Why aren’t you jumping up and down crazy happy about that?”
They just looked at me confused. I shook my head. “For you to be church people you sure do need reminding of things a lot. Look at me. You know how long I lived in the NICU and PICU until they thought I might live? Most of the first year of my life. And yet here I am. Life wasn’t easy, it wasn’t great, but I’m alive and most of the time I’ve managed to find that a pretty good thing to be. And that was without too many people around to encourage me to feel that way. You have a whole family full of people that can go around telling your baby that being alive is a good thing and to keep trying to be alive on those days that it isn’t so great. You can love him and touch him and he can love and touch you. Where’s your faith? Even I know about that stuff and I’d never been in a real church kinda place until Sawyer took me that first time. And where is Preacher Don? He’s a lot better at explaining this stuff than I am.” I shook my head and left the room.
Sawyer followed me as I went down the hallway I knew all too well. “Wait. Kay-Lee stop.” He grabbed my arm and turned me to him. “Where are you going?”
“Back to where I started. I was dead a couple of times before they got me here. I guess I died a couple more before I decided I was no good at it and gave it up in favor of trying something else.”
Shocked Sawyer yelped, “Kay-Lee!”
I shook my head, giddy in my relief. “Oh Sawyer. I guess it is just one of those things you’re not going to understand. You kinda had to be there. I don’t remember it; people just tell me about it and … well … it just is the way it was.”
Sawyer shrugged and followed me through the maze of hallways until we were in front of an old-fashioned viewing window. Most of the modern hospitals were getting rid of those windows for security reasons but they hadn’t here yet. I looked and found him almost immediately. “Oh look … there he is. Wow, he looks like Jeannie and Benedict all mashed together.”
“He isn’t crying,” Sawyer observed with concern. “All of the other babies are looking cranky or tuning up.”
Leaping to the baby’s defense whether I needed to or not I said, “He just went through an ordeal. He was tangled up coming out. Has probably been handled by dozens of medical staff whether he wanted to be or not. Shoved up and in one bassinet with a bunch of wires and monitors, lights blazing away at him, and now shoved in this one and put on display like a prize pig or something. Oh look! He moved. See?! He did it again. I bet he starts crying to be fed in under a minute.”
“How do you know that? I didn’t think you had anything to do with babies.”
I shook my head. “I said the school didn’t want us in their childcare program but when you are in foster care you pretty much learn about babies whether you want to or not. Older kids are always expected to help with younger kids. Plus I was in the hospital a lot and basically lived on pediatric units sometimes. Kids of all ages and pains were there.”
“So you know about kids.”
“Enough. And if I know anything it is that baby is a Hartford … and a boy Hartford on top of it. And if I know anything about boy Hartfords it is that they do not tolerate being hungry for very long without … see … told you.”
Baby Boy Hartford made a horrible face then started yelling. He wasn’t very loud but he was very definite about his displeasure. He even startled the nurse that had been changing another baby in the background.
I couldn’t help it. A laugh bubbled out of me and I clapped my hands. “You tell ‘em Baby Hartford!” I turned to Sawyer who was looking from me to the baby with a puzzled expression. “How did you … I mean … you said it would and then … it did … I …”
“Don’t just stand there. Call Benedict and tell him to put … oh never mind. I’ll do it.”
I called Linda’s phone and when she picked up told her to give the phone to Jeannie right away. “What?” she sniffled.
“Listen,” I told her before putting the phone to the glass. Then I took it away. “Know what that is? Someone letting the world know that he is disgusted with his situation and wants to be fed or changed or maybe both. But the face he is making sure says he wants to club someone. Looks just like a Hartford before he has had his first cup of coffee in the morning.”
It sounded like the phone fell or had been dropped and then I heard Jeannie demand, “Benedict get that chair over here and you push me where I need to go … right now. Hurry. He’s crying and I gotta …”
I didn’t hear anything else but I knew Jeannie so told Sawyer to stand back out of the way because if Benedict didn’t move fast enough Jeannie was liable to make a run down the hall with or without him.
**********
Later that evening Sawyer and I were walking out of Jeannie’s room. I was so happy I was wiping tears from my eyes but I guess your average person would have thought the tears were for another reason. Certainly a man that we almost ran into did. He looked at me and then turned very pale and started to keel over.
Sawyer yelled, “Benedict!”
Benedict came out just in time to see Sawyer and I trying to keep the guy from buckling all the way to the floor. “What the heck?”
The man looked at Benedict and said, “Jeannie? The … the baby?”
Benedict blinked and then stood straight and said, “They’re fine sir. We … uh … they … it was bad for a … but … oh geez.” He wilted and it finally clicked.
I patted the man’s shoulder and said, “Jeannie must take after her mother. Probably a good thing. Anyway, things were touch and go and then Benny Robert decided to show the whole nursery who is boss. Jeannie just finished feeding him and they took him off to do all the necessary measurements and chart commentary. The pediatrician should be back shortly with the full run down. Speaking of down, you look like you need to sit down before you fall down. Would you like a chair?”
“Jeannie … my little girl …”
Sawyer slid a chair under him so we could put him in it. He wasn’t exactly a lightweight. Benedict carefully went back when Jeannie demanded to know what was going on. A nurse was looking at us prepared to intervene when Benedict came out and asked Jeannie’s father, “Would … would you please come say hello to Jeannie? She … she really needs you to. If you want me to stay out here …”
The man shook his head. “No … no I’d like to see both of you. Hear … hear how Jeannie … how both of you … have been doing. Maybe … maybe see …”
“The baby? I’ll go ask the doctor.”
“After I see Jeannie.”
The man disappeared into the room and Benedict glanced at Sawyer, looking confused before going in and closing the door.
Thinking it over I said, “Guess there really is a reason for everything, even bad stuff.”
“Huh?”
Continuing down the rabbit trail were traveling I said, “It just seems sad that it took Benny Robert nearly getting strangled to get Jeannie’s family to start coming around. They sound as hardheaded as the Hartfords.”
Sawyer gave me a look and said, “Getting a little sassy there aren’t you?”
“Maybe. Ready to go? Whatever is happening in there is none of our business and will probably take a while. Benedict needs to handle it and if he can’t then Uncle Ben and Aunt Lurlene can.”
“Too right,” Sawyer said suddenly starting to hustle me towards the exit. “Let’s get out of here before there’s any more drama … like Jeannie’s mom or sister showing up.”
“Her mom will … as soon as she figures out Jeannie’s dad snuck over here. I’m not caring too much for the sister either way. She sounds like a stuck-up snob. Even Jeannie’s uncle said something that one time I met him.”
We were out of the parking lot and on the way home before I thought to ask, “Did anyone tell Gramps what happened this morning?”
“Yeah. He said that the hospital wasn’t the place to talk about it, that we were all to focus on Benedict and Jeannie and the baby.”
I nodded. “OK. Can I ask you something else? Why didn’t the dogs go nuts like they normally do? I didn’t even think about it until Linda asked who’d grabbed the dogs.”
“I had shut them in their kennel in the barn because I’d just finished brushing out all of the stickers and crap they brought in on their coat where they went hunting with me. I left them in the kennel until I can make sure they won’t take any food from anyone but us. Someone could poison them.”
“Jamison … he could shoot them.”
“He hurts my dogs and that really will be the end of it.”
“I still worry that Uncle Forrester …”
Sawyer swore under his breath. “You really are determined on this aren’t you?”
Irritated I said, “Well just tell me to shut up then. It’s not every day I promise to commit mayhem on a man I never met and find out he’s some kind of family.”
I turned to look out at the dark through the fogged up passenger window. Sawyer sighed. “I didn’t mean that quite the way it sounded.”
“Whatever Sawyer. They’re your family, but I guess because I’ve been calling them that I expected them to act like it. I knew … or knew of … some of them before I knew you. Now I don’t know what to think.”
“Of the family or of them.”
“Both. If Gramps thinks you bunch are going to play nice together in the middle of the end of the world I can pretty much say after this morning’s actions that he is in for some serious disappointment. And I hope that the family job he is setting you up with doesn’t include laying down and letting people walk all over you just because they feel they are due something or other.”
We were silent the rest of the way home, both of us deep into our own thoughts. It was when we pulled in that we saw Cutter sitting on the porch.